Throwaway days

I was lying in bed a few minutes ago and thought of winter break all of a sudden. What did I do during winter break? I tried hard and remembered climbing Mt. Wilson and going to a bar for the first time. But it still took a few seconds. And I only thought of two days – two days out of the 14 to 20 of complete leisure.

What did I do those other days? Probably I spent quality time with my friends and family in the prime of life – enjoying a friendship closer than perhaps I’ll ever have again. If only I could remember what I did…

What week of school is it now? Eighth or something? I’m thinking: today was Wednesday. I did fencing today; that was fun – which means tomorrow is Thursday, all I have to do is go to solid state physics class. Maybe I’ll play racquetball tomorrow – I always enjoy that. Maybe I’ll follow a friend to a party I wasn’t invited to. Those are usually fun, but…

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Am I the only one who attends social functions in the hope that something exceptional will happen? An emergency or something in which I can play the role of the hero, or perhaps meet someone who was worth the effort of putting on pants and leaving in my apartment that half-empty can of bud light? I just really don’t want to miss out.

But sometimes I leave social functions early anyways. It’s not because I want to leave. As I said, I really don’t want to miss out. No, I don’t leave because I want to, but because I can. Because hope is a wonderful thing, but the waiting around it spawns is so pathetic sometimes.

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I enjoy what I do. I don’t waste too much time, I produce a good amount of writing or programming or whatever creative hobby I’m on at the moment. I get a lot of exercise, I’m in better shape than ever, and I try out debate or fencing or theater some other new thing every half year or so.

I don’t really remember any of that though. Don’t get me wrong, it’s extremely pleasant, intellectually, socially, and physically stimulating, really the most comfortably happy times of my life, but it just doesn’t stand out.

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It’ll be Friday the day after tomorrow, a big day maybe – I get to present my play in class and be the center of attention for twenty or thirty minutes. I suppose to keep tone with the rest of this piece I should say my play isn’t very good, but I think it’s actually got a lot potential. And then… it’ll be the end of the week. And we’ll enter ninth week – or is it eighth week?

When I’m out of college, as I will be soon, what I’ll remember as substantial, as landmarks in my life really will not be the Society of Physics Students meetings, easy conversations over lunch in Ackerman, drinking in random peoples’ apartments, card games in Rieber dorm lounge, fencing practices in Wooden, or any of those terrific, pleasant times that have made my college life happy.

I think I’ll remember the moments of extreme joy from unexpected sources and the debacles that often follow. I’ll remember my girlfriend visiting and being walked in on by my roommate and 4 of his female friends freshman year, like third day of school. I’ll remember waking up at 11:30 for a 10AM Life Science 15 midterm. I’ll remember following my floormate into her room ostensibly to eat after getting drunk for the first time. I’ll remember waking up at 11AM for 10AM midterm. I’ll remember calling Rieber front desk that a girl was attacking me. I’ll remember puking my guts out a dorm window. I’ll remember camping, and a certain brunch, and a certain walk…

I guess our memories are more attuned to the physiological and the extreme than the fulfilling, happy, or even meaningful. When choosing between two things to do, is it better to choose the one that’s more fulfilling or the more memorable? Should we go sleep in our cars in downtown LA to urban-camp, mugging and shanking included? I don’t know, but I’m going to go sleep in my bed in my apartment now, just like yesterday…