I'm really running out of titles for these things.
Today, was actually a good day, I think BECAUSE of MCAS. It was the long composition, so it wasn't that bad. I just wrote about 1984 for two hours and I think I managed to come up with a pretty good essay. I mean, I was going to get full credit ANYWAY. You basically have to be an idiot not to. But I think it came out to be an interesting piece of writing rather than just MCAS writing. Then I only had 20th century and health and the day was over. Pretty sweet deal.
So I guess I actually have an appointment set up with a shrink. (In this case I have to say shrink, because I don't know if she's a psychiatrist or psychologist or therapist or what.) Again, this kind of scares me. I mean, what if I'm just being whiney? It would suck to know that there's nothing actually wrong with me. Not only would it be embarrassing, it would be... well, it would mean that I'm just going to feel this way for the rest of my life. Maybe you're supposed to feel this way. Maybe it's completely normal, and I just notice it or talk about it more than most people. Maybe everyone just has a better attitude than I do. Sometimes I think - and Molly's said the exact same thing - that I'm not happy because I don't want to be. Sometimes I think that if I really tried, I could force myself into a good mood. But I don't. Maybe I just don't see the point. Or maybe I think that being depressed makes me special somehow. "Look at me, I'm a poor misunderstood teenager." The other possibility is that I'll just hate the shrink, never want to go back, and continue being depressed because of that. But I guess that remains to be seen. I just have to wait until next Thursday.
My mom wasn't home the other day, so I went out to dinner with my dad. Things are always somewhat awkward when I'm alone with my dad. I try to make excuses for this, like, "Oh, he's just quiet." This is true to some extent. But it's mostly just that I don't spend time with him so I don't really know him, which I don't feel great about. It's a shame, really, because he's pretty cool and obviously I'm a lot more like him than I am like my mom. Sometimes when I do talk to him he seems to understand me better than my mom does, even though I have to remind him who my friends are and stuff.
He also really never talks about himself. Sometimes I don't even think my mom knows that much about my dad. I know a few selected details about his childhood, but he doesn't tell stories like my mom does. Basically all I know about my dad in highschool is that he was a drama kid, he "ran with the nerd herd," and twice he was hospitalized for exhaustion and malnutrition because he was working too hard in school. (I know this from my mom. She tells people this story whenever they say "a little hard work never killed anyone.") In college, he lived in an apartment with a bunch of hippies and had a serious girlfriend who sends us a Christmas card and who my mom still hates to this day. I also know that his dad died when he was a sophomore, but he never talks about this. In fact, I've only heard him mention it once, when I asked him "Were your parents strict when you were a kid?" "No," he said. "Nobody cared what I did. My mom was working two jobs and my dad was dying of cancer."
I guess his whole family is kind of like this. My dad has a sister (My aunt Kathleen) and two brothers. They all hate each other and haven't talked in years, but for some reason they are all friendly with my dad. The wierd thing is, no one will tell me why. I asked my mom once, and she said "That's for Aunt Kathleen to tell you when and if she feels comfortable with it." I never bothered to ask my aunt Kathleen.
Anyway, I was talking to him and the conversation was actually going pretty well, and I mentioned how Molly feels like she has to become a scientist since everyone in her family is a scientist.
"Well I hope Molly knows she doesn't HAVE to become a scientist," he said. I shrugged. "Well not even because of the family thing... Sometimes you just feel like if you're good at something, that's what you have to do." "You should do what you like, not what you're good at. You have to go to work EVERY DAY." "Yeah, I know, but if you don't do what you're good at, doesn't it feel like a waste?" My dad persisted with the "you should do what you like" thing, so finally I said, "Ok, like, sometimes I think I want to be a musician. But then I think, 'No, I'm smart, so I have to be an... intellectual.' I mean, if I'm good at math and science and writing, isn't that... not living up to my potential, or something?" "Who says musicians can't be intellectuals?" I shrugged. "I want to be successful in what I do though. And I'm not one of THE BEST musicians out there. I think there are a lot more kids who are better than me at music than there are who are smarter than me."
Then you know what I realized? This statement is false. There will always be kids who are much better than me at math and science - kids who I can't even hope to come close to. But I HAVE entered the school's musical elite. I've already played the talent show and the bridge. People know me. The best musicians in the school think I'm a good musician. And when I'm a senior, I'll probably be following in their footsteps - people like Rob and Jay and Liz - the kids who are in like five bands and are guaranteed to make auditions and are expected to play in performances - The best of the best. And music is my life. I love it. So... why shouldn't I do that for a living?
I don't know. The best answer I can come up with is, "Because I'm too much of a snob."
Anyway, I'm in a pretty good mood, so I should really get some work done. Hm... I wonder what I do if I'm in a good mood next Thursday.
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