I need it to be sunny (a repetitive poem)

Dear Syracuse and your lack of anything other than cloudiness in freaking late March/early April,

I need it to be sunny
I need it to be sunny so I can greet the day with happiness instead of a groan
I need it to be sunny so I don't feel cold when I go outside
I need it to be sunny so I can finally wear open-toed shoes and put away my heavy coat
I need it to be sunny so I can know that it's spring instead of having to remind myself everyday
I need it to be sunny so I can get some Vitamin B, which is good for complexion and morale

I need it to be sunny so I don't have to look inside myself for joy

I need it to be sunny so I can finally feel hopeful about my future, even when that future is foggy

(This sentiment is seconded, and etc, by all of my friends who live here and cannot wait to get out of here)

(Don't criticize the poem, I am very well aware it's rudimentary and repetitive (I was a lit major, for God's sake!). But sometimes you need to let it out.)

(Now back to your regularly scheduled programming...and rain and snow in April).

The Fear (Updated)

So I'm petrified. It's like those dreams where something horrible is chasing you and no matter how fast you try to run, you feel like all you're really doing is crawling. You always wake up before you're caught. But this is real life, and you can't wake up from that. You will get caught.

Burn-Out, Baby, Burn-Out!

School resumed again this week. And I've been, predictably, tired. After all, Spring Break screwed up my sleeping schedule.

Yet was it really Spring Break? Then how does it explain my generally lethargic attitude? I have work I need to do, projects to turn in, deadline to meet. But instead of bucking up and losing myself, even rejoicing in the work, I'm dragging myself to my computer and to the books.

I've hardly even wanted to write in this blog.

Burn-out. Also known as senoritas. Also known as being generally lazy.

It's general weariness about everything you're doing. It's exactly what the name entails, you're running on empty, there is no fire and no fuel, sooner or later, you either recharge yourself or die off.

I realized today that I haven't had a real, let's not worry about work, deadline, sit around the house-and-do-nothing break since last year, in that week between graduation from undergrad and moving across the country to Syracuse for post-grad. It's been steady working

In the words of Bilbo Baggins, "I need a holiday, I very long holiday."

My editor at the "Post-Standard," said I didn't sound like my normal, happy self. That I was "too quiet." I'm moving slowly along, getting my stories and assignment finished, maybe not with my usual aplomb, but finished.

For now, that needs to be enough, until I find that fire again. Or it finds me.

Theater Review: "Good People" on Broadway

Why do bad things happen to good people? Sometimes it's because they weren't lucky enough in their lives. And with that depressing thought is David Lindsay-Abaire's "Good People."

Similar to "Rabbit Hole," his naturalistic drama about a couple coping with the death of their child (and who earned Nicole Kidman an Oscar nomination for the movie adaptation), Lindsay-Abaire explores the plight of working people in his newest play, "Good People." It's drama that is centered around the domestic, real world.

The Art of Doing Nothing

I'm a workaholic. I blame my father, the great multitask-er, even when he's retired and supposed to sitting all day reading and relaxing, he's currently landscaping my sister's backyard.

Of course, to be a journalist, that's a prerequisite. After all, we are the lords of multitasking, always reading, researching, interviewing and writing. The news cycle is never-ending these days and there are always updates and things to be caught up with. Because a journalist is not a journalist if they don't know the news.

And if you're a freelancer, that's double the amount of work because you spend your work time in that job that makes you actual money to pay for the essentials (rent and food), your spare time is spent being a journalist because that's where the passion lies and that's why you wanted to be a writer in the first place.

My adviser told me to stay centered, after I expressed to her that I feel guilty even watching movies because then I feel like I'm wasting time. "That's not good," she said.

Doing nothing is an art as of itself. Because in a world now where information is consistently streaming in and the avenues to get that information is convenient, there's a desire to be constantly stimulated.

It gives birth to a nation of pure neurosis.

I once wrote an essay for speech and debate in high school about finding your inner hobbit. It was about finding that creature inside that is able to relax, to do nothing and not feel ashamed for it.

So since this is Spring Break at Syracuse University. It's what I'm going to do. Yes, there's still work and a deadline to deal with. But I'm dealing with it at a leisurely pace, while still leaving ample time for bad movies, catching up on my reading and visiting New York City again.

Because sometimes, doing nothing is as much work as doing something.