Flummoxed and balmy

When I stepped outside this morning, I was pleasantly surprised by the warmer temperature. When I got off the train at 57th Street, a digital sign informed me that the current temperature was 42°. Balmy. As I walked past the holiday market at Columbus Circle, all the booths were being opened and the merchandise was being arranged and displayed, preparing for another day of business. As a result of my unwarranted holiday cheer, this holiday market is a great joy to me, particularly as I pass it each evening on my way home. The red and white striped tents, the smell of apple cider and cookies, and the buzz of excitement are all rather magical. As I read back over this paragraph I am compelled to repeat… damn holiday cheer.

I’m finished with classes, and my remaining final exams and papers are spread out over the next week so I am breathing easier. That is, until it hits me that I have only five more months until I am spat out into the adult world. After years spent longing for this supposed freedom, I find myself sufficiently paralyzed with fear, doubt, and a general sense of confusion. It’s not that I expected to have a detailed snapshot of my future, complete with an instructional booklet and driving directions. But I do think I expected to know the scenery, even if it was blurry. I’d like to know, at this point, whether I’m heading into the ocean or the forest or the concrete jungle. Apparently that is too much to ask.

I’ve never thought of myself as idealistic, naïve, or even youthfully optimistic. I tend more towards skepticism and a generally pessimistic outlook on life. But my jaded view – which typically protects against these moments of severe devastation – has failed me on this account. Because I really did think that after all I’ve learned about myself, all I’ve experienced, the way I’ve grown, that I’d come out of it with an idea at least about what I wanted. Instead I’m flummoxed, my head swiveling back and forth between two paths. On one hand I’m telling myself to shove down all the desire for something true and fulfilling for the sake of getting out of debt. On the other hand, a part of me is yearning to run like hell from the structured, settled down version of life to immerse myself in yet another bubble world.

If it’s possible to feel trapped by too much opportunity, that’s where I am.