Good evening, Dear Reader. I’m writing this one in a rush, so please excuse whatever lapse in prose is about to come your way. (Lapse in prose? Lapse in judgment? Poor judgment? Poor prose…)
I come to you back aching and eyes tired after a long day of nonstop movement. People who know me well will tell you that my go-to expression for this is “like a chicken running around with my head chopped off.” Much of the energy I’ve been expending these days has been of the good sort–I love my classes this quarter, for example–but it’s all been energy nonetheless.
And to be honest, not all of it has been particularly fabulous. Senior year has been different than I expected. I had very high hopes for this year that were derailed pretty early on in Fall Quarter. It’s okay–things happen. But the train has still not clicked back onto the track yet. Chugga chugga, chugga chugga, spurt, clash, pffft.
I’m finding myself at a similar crossroads to the one I found myself in the middle of my sophomore year. I can either A. Continue to mope around–woe is me–complaining about the state of affairs and waiting for someone to swoop in and make it all better, or B. Sit straight like a freaking grown up and make whatever necessary changes to make life better for myself. Easier said than done, of course, but what isn’t?
I sound very confident now because today was one of my good days. Tomorrow might not be as good, and I might write something more angsty, like the first version of this blog post or the free write I pen-vomited onto my journal in English class today. (“Everyone take ten minutes and write about one of your obsessions.” Dear God.)
But alas. A good day it was. Relatively speaking.
I think part of this whole growing up thing is about realizing the difference between things you can’t do and things you absolutely can do. For example, I can’t pick up a train and pop it back onto the train track. My arms aren’t big enough. Or my legs. But I absolutely can choose to walk away from the exploding train cars. Maybe duck and hide behind a boulder or something. Stressing our butts off about the things we have absolutely no control over and clamoring about for alternate universes in which things had gone differently is so damn futile. Similarly, acting like there’s nothing we can do to help the situation is silly and will only slow our own healing process. Or in the train case, expedite the injury process.
Okay, so what the hell am I saying.
I’m going to be taking some steps that I think will help me adjust better to the demands of my Senior year. One of those steps is putting a hold on producing weekly episodes of Cath in College: Senior Year. I will still post episodes of the show every once in a while, but they might not be on Wednesdays and they will almost certainly be less frequent. Similarly, the episodes themselves may start to look a little different. This will be a result of the fact that the show–as suggested by its title–is meant to reflect the truth of my final year here at Stanford, and so as the year changes, so too must the show.
Q: Are you good?
A: Yes! Thank you for asking, which many of you have. I’m a grown lady who can adapt to her surroundings and take steps to ensure her wellbeing. Life is like a rollercoaster sometimes, especially as you get older. (Look at me, a nostalgic 21-year-old. I irk myself.) This is just me adapting.
Q: When will Senior Year be back?
A: Not sure! As soon as I want to again and as soon as I figure out a way to make it feel good to make again. At the very very latest, you will hear from me at graduation. I’m not dying.
Q: Will you be active on your other channels/producing other videos?
A: Absolutely! Team CiC and I will be hard at work building on all the other parts of the CiC universe, including this blog, the CiC app, the CiC Instagram, and the CiC Patreon. We’ll still be doing our monthly livestreams/giveaways, and we’re even going to be rolling out some exciting NEW projects. (CiC scholarship, anyone?)
Q: If you could only drink Philz or Dunkin Donuts for the rest of your life, which one would you choose?
A: I plead the fifth.
So fret not, DR. I’m not dying, I assure you that. I appreciate you and your heartfelt support of this little corner of the Internet more than I feel I can possibly express. I promise to be around and active–I’ve made that promise now to you and to my team, who I love so dearly. (Have you met them yet? Please meet them. They’re right here.)
Hugs and Coffee,