by Welcome to November, my younglings. There is an abundance of fascinating topics that interest college students. For example: socially acceptable networking sites not including MySpace, non-discriminating articles of processed food, purchasing gas with an underscored attitude of importance due to vehicular independence masked in economic tribulation, and so on and so forth. But, in my field research, I have discovered an entity so sought after by college students, it has become a valuable commodity, one discussed openly and with an ever-present sense of desire.
Sleep.
Let me paint a scenario for you visual learners: I laid down yesterday afternoon for a brief nap before work. I woke up six hours later. Now, in some cultures, this would represent a frightening denial of necessary biological recharge, and the particular individual might see a physician. God bless college, the land of the consistent carbohydrates and the home of the medically exhausted. I have noticed, in my brief and relatively applicable experience, I am always tired. My brain has deflated and decamped to some deserted town of the coast of Rhode Island. I have also noticed that I have lost my favorite video tape from a Canadian film I was fond of as a child, but that is not the point.
The point is, this college thing is hard.
I am sure you all have your own horror stories and I encourage you to leave them below in the comment box. I also encourage you to bake me some cookies.
I like cookies.
I work as a Barista at Starbucks, and I am taking 16 units. Now, I know that is cupcakes to the lot of you and you are reading this thinking, “I am so going all Freaky-Friday on this chick! We’ll see how she feels living my life! ” You may be right, but please do not spiritually switch places with me… I don’t think we could find a spunky Chinese woman with a magic fortune cookie before my sociology final… and I doubt Lindsay Lohan is going to help us.
Now this is my first job. I am still trying to understand the social climate of the workplace. How casual is work-casual? Do you really have to suck up to your boss or is that just something the media incepted into our hungry job-starved brains? And why on earth do people order a skinny latte with whole milk and whipped cream? Does this not defeat the purpose of skinny latte…?
Not that I mind, not really. I am so incredibly thankful to have a job and a job I love. I love people and I am blessed to live in an area with the pick of the litter: our customers are respectful and kind. Sure, occasionally we get a spicy consumer muttering obscenities under their coffee-stained breath, but hey, who doesn’t?
Kids, we must stand strong! Life is just beginning! Yes, I know the Harry Potter franchise is over and most of us feel completely meaningless in our Gryfindor uniforms and freaky J.K. Rowling shrines, but hey! I heard Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez adopted a dog together… so… there’s that. God bless their charity.
One thing that I simply adore about college is that for a month, you have nothing: no work, no tests, nothing. And than, ta-da! You have three final papers due, four projects, two speeches, and intense amounts of customers asking for soy pumpkin spice lattes. I suppose the most beneficial advice I can give you is this: do your work! …. on time! Catching up after falling behind is like than simply walking into Mordor… it cannot be done… and I have just successfully realized myself to a half a million readers as a capital dork through these blogs. Congrats, Amanda. Congrats.
Thanksgiving is almost upon us, my pilgrims! Welcome to the season of Turkey Genocide! Kill a bird, roast a ‘tater and stuff your gorgeous face. Thanksgiving, for me, is comprised of two things: intense amounts of carbs, and intense amounts of sugar. While others enjoy the festive feast and partake in the ritual culinary splendor, such as stuffing and yams and creamed-corn and mashed potatoes, I eat turkey and intense amounts of bread. Now, you may be thinking “Amanda! You can eat that everyday!” … You would be right. I eat boring, dry, crusty food (Just kidding, Grandma) and then.. on the golden horizon of after-dinner comatose comes..
Grandma Mary’s Double-Fudge Cake.
When she brings it out on a shining, silver plate, I can hear angels in splendid chorus singing an anthem of chocolate adoration. There it is! A glorious spectacle to behold, paraded by my fantastic Italian Grandmama! It gleams in the incandescent light of our dining room chandelier and the birds of the forest delicately painted on the shade seem to chime in with the angels, chanting in triumph and awe for the cocoa-covered block of sugar and fat coming my way! Joy to the world!
Than, I eat it and am rendered unconscious by the dense amounts of the sugar retained in my bloodstream. Looking back, I realize this blog is about food and sleep… subconsciously, I must be Garfield… I need help.
