I was horribly lethargic all day today. Whenever I tried to work on something, I’d end up staring blankly at the screen. No amount of coffee helped. My mom’s diagnosis was that I was “intellectually out-of-shape” due to spending an entire month on vacation, doing nothing more mentally strenuous than read The Fountainhead.

Professor Bump of my upcoming World Literature class sent out a questionnaire recently. Some of the questions are causing a minor identity crisis: what would you rather do than go to college? Whose idea was it (yours or your parents’) to send you to college? Going to college was always an utter certainty for me, not even worth thinking about. My parents had accomplished an impressively Orwellian level of indoctrination! I’ll still go, though. I want to maintain as long as possible the illusion of possibility, and put off the realization that my future is more or less predictable, and probably always had been.