‘I’m pretty sure if I collected everything I had lost, it would equate to more than I have now’
Apparently, I have no idea what I’m doing.
[Editor’s note: “I don’t know what I’m doing” is a recurring personal column that pays homage to Johnny Auping’s “I have no idea what I’m doing” personal column in The New Yorker. Opinions expressed here belong only to the author, and, we hope, nobody else on the planet. — Josh Towner, opinions editor]
By Matt Teigland | Journalist
I have no idea what I’m doing, I’m pretty sure I haven’t washed my bed sheets since freshman year. In my defense however, the Getsch laundry room holds some pretty bad memories for me. That’s where the greatest fear of every Bethel student became my reality, arms full of someone else’s laundry taking them out of the dryer, underwear and all as she walked in, wondering why I was moving her laundry. The line gets long!
I have no idea how to keep my things together. I’m pretty sure if I collected everything I had lost it would equate to more than I have now. If your idea of a third date involves walking to CC313 to find a lost wallet, rummaging around on your knees between the theater seats one row at a time than I am definitely the guy for you.
I don’t know how to cook, and I’m glad I stay on meal plan B because no amount of Sodexo chicken will sway me from having to face the reality of eating pop tarts and sandwiches for every meal of the day. They say cooking is a great skill to learn but often I think that I am a little too low on the ladder to start climbing.
I’m an English education major but every time the blue squiggly line appears under a sentence in my word documents I slowly question my career path. I feel called to use big words but often me use small word instead. That reminds me of when I spilled some delicacy of chocolate milk on my nightstand and had to slurp it up to not be wasteful. Six hours later I was in a middle school helping teach 13-year-olds.
I don’t know how to fix electronics. The TV in our living room hasn’t worked the whole year, so I guess my roommates also get some blame for this. It has lead to some great bonding time though, picture four guys elbow to elbow on a couch watching a laptop screen of the iconic movie Surf’s Up in a somewhat dirty living room at Arden East.
I think that’s why I don’t always mind not knowing what I’m doing. Often we unite with our incompetency. Really we are all just a bunch of idiots bumbling around together.
I often wonder if the people that I pass on the BC 2nd floor are like me. So many studious people, heads buried in textbooks and computers focused on their tasks. Personally, the only time I go to the library or study areas like that is when I want to convince myself that I do more work than I actually do.
Even now I’m struggling to stay on task, this JID song is sounding pretty good in my headphones on my new phone that I just got upgraded after I cracked mine on the concrete sidewalk running in the rain from the RC to my dorm room. Can’t say I gave myself too much to write this either.
But at least I know I’ll get it done eventually. And I know rap music is awesome. And I love chocolate milk even with the woody dresser aftertaste. And I love watching movies with the boys even if we have to get uncomfortably close. And we found my wallet, and I managed to get another date, too.
I don’t know what I’m doing, but we’re still going for now.
