Please listen to the provided Neil Diamond while reading. It’s the theme song of this post.
The funny thing about this blog is that when I’m not posting, it feels like I’ve been cut off from an old friend who I’m used to chatting with regularly. And all that’s complicated in my life, or hard, or sad, or unbelievably happy, seems to build up inside of me until I’m running around campus holding my chest as if it’ll burst open if I don’t.
What happened to make me stop calling and texting you were the MCSA (student government) elections. I’m Election Commissioner this year, which didn’t seem like a very complicated job at the onset, but which escalated until I was spending all day every day policing Facebook and Twitter, planning debates, editing videos, sending reassuring emails to the student body, dealing with illegal spray painting incidents (still can’t believe that happened), and near the end, checking the online polls every ten minutes to see who was ahead. The worst part was that MCSA doesn’t have detailed rules outlining the powers of the Commissioner, so when “disciplinary” situations came up, I had little guidance, and mostly had to wing it. As is natural when a leader is “winging it,” there were quite a few shouts of “unfair!” and “dictator!” It got old really quickly.
The elections ended last night at 11:59, and by 2:00 a.m. this morning, I had sent out emails to all the winners and losers.
The high point was that I got to call the winning Presidential/Vice Presidential team to tell them that they had won. Hazen, who was running for president, is a dear friend of mine, and asked me beforehand to call her with news, whether bad or good. When I told her last night that she was the 2013-2014 MCSA President, she didn’t believe me at first. And then she screamed with excitement, and I could hear her running mate, Andrew, screaming in the background. It was the best call I’ve ever made.
And how can you be bitter about a job that ended like that?
Besides elections, I’ve been spiraling toward my last month of college. Lots of paper writing (I have two big ones to finish this weekend), graduation planning (bought my cap and gown and two dresses (one for the awards banquet and one for commencement)), and nostalgia.
You know, as sad as it’ll be to leave this dear place, I’ve been slowly realizing that I’m ready. I’ve taken in Morris completely, I’ve had wonderful experiences and made wonderful friends and learned how to be a grown-up, analytical thinker. But there’s not much more for me here, now, and that means it’s time to move on to the next big thing.
What is “the next big thing,” you ask? I have no idea. Does anyone want to offer me a job?