I recognize my flaws and I think them over and over and over again in my head until I feel as though I can’t just THINK anymore. Today the flaw I recognized was my inability to make a decision. And this is on a completely broad spectrum…

Decisions about what makes me happy, about post college plans (grad school, travel, job, Europe, Stratford?), about what I want for dinner tomorrow night. My dad always used to tell me that the part of the brain that helps with the decision making process doesn’t fully develop until you’re in your early-mid twenties. Maybe that’s all it is.

And to go along with not being able to make decisions - I need to learn to pick a side and stick to it. Even as an op-ed writer for my schools paper, I tend to explain how I feel about both sides without bashing one or sticking up for the other. Grey matter is prevalent in situations, but it’s either the black or white side that I need to stick to.

I claim I’m a writer, yet the last post I’ve written dates back to months ago. I say that I’m going to bring a journal around with me everywhere I go, yet it remains neglected under my bed, shuffled in with other forgotten journals that I would start and never finish. So here’s to a fresh start, to cataloging and organizing my thoughts and ideas back into tumblr entries that will one day provide for a good read and maybe spark more words.

Today I burned my mouth so badly that I thought I was in need of emergency medical attention. It was a soup at hand, tomato, and I had left it in the microwave ten seconds less than it was supposed to be in for. Without hesitation I sipped, and I could instantly feel the taste buds peeling away from my tongue.

The boy sitting four seats over from me would not stop staring, and every 30 seconds asked me how I was recovering.

It has been three hours and the thought of hot food still unsettles me.

Here I sit in my 4th hour on duty behind the front desk. This has been the longest week I have had in quite a while - up at 7:30am and not done moving around until 10 or 11pm each night. I’ve developed a headache and am exhausted beyond words. The week was full of ups, downs, bowling strikes, and jokes about snorting Nutmeg. The week also brought something I haven’t truly had in a long time - an insane sense of organization. Each program date has been planned along with the monthly bulletin boards and door decs, which should lighten the load quite a bit and relieve the stress uncertainty brings.

The creativity wheels in my head have also never felt so alive.

I am sitting here all alone - we have exactly twelve residents in the building right now, with the remaining 200-some coming in on Sunday. I can’t decide if this quiet is eerie, or just what I need after the week I had.

It’s probably just what I need. A month from now I will probably be wanting this reflecting time that is so hard to find once the rush begins.