A Month In Which Nothing Happened



I spend a lot of time reading blogs, in which their owners report heartbreak, heartache, melodramatic shenagins and wondrous goings-on. I, on the other hand, have nothing to report. No news is good news, I suppose, but sometimes I wish I didn't lead such a terribly boring life.

This doesn't mean that I find a life full of tears and swooning and cursing of boys/girls/cats-that-litter-on-your-assignment appealing. (I've heard enough of that kind of thing in high school, from Rosedale girls bemoaning their alcohol-induced mistakes to friends who made mistakes while in perfect control of their mental and bodily functions.)

No, I sometimes wish that I actually did...stuff. That I was involved in something worthwhile or at least interesting. Jungle exploration, for example. Or perhaps the Kaleidescope program. But, being intolerant of mosquitoes and horrible with children (who don't respect so much as outwit this twenty-year-old), I haven't been able to find anything I can actually make a meaningful contribution to.

(I can't even prevent myself from ending a sentence with a preposition. Dammit.)

The funny thing is, it's not really bothering me as much as it used to. Well, it kind of sucks to feel like I have no aim or goal in life, but I am still in uni. Although some people my age seem to have their entire lives planned out (whereas I still don't know the contents in my fridge), I know God has something planned out for me (and yea, the Lord doth make His most Holy and Divine appearance in this blog. Huzzah!) and that my gift for eating cake batter and devouring books will be of use to Him somehow.