Motivation.
I feel like I’m the only person in this house that I live in during the week who gives a shit about anything anymore. I live with three other men, all of whom are complete stoners. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got nothing against stoners, but, shit, it’s hard as hell to stay motivated to do anything when you’re in an environment where nobody gives a shit about their success in their lives, let alone your own. I feel like this house is basically Jesse’s house in Breaking Bad. A place for soulless people to just come, use, get fucked up, and leave. I hate that people know and refer to this house as “the party house.” That’s partially my fault, and I accept that. But I didn’t find the nicest goddamn house in Home Park (a place known for the astonishing level of crap houses people try to convince students to rent) just to trash it every goddamn day. Last semester was my worst semester for this exact reason.
Over the break, it all hit me. I’m a student at Georgia Tech. Georgia goddamn Tech. The most prestigious public institution in the state. But I didn’t feel like one. I felt like some shell of a person putting up a front that I went there. I was so dissociated that when I told someone I went to Tech, I felt like I was lying to them. That’s ridiculous! Why was I feeling like that? Oh, because I wasn’t a student at Georgia Tech. I was just some fucker who happened to be taking classes at Georgia Tech. Not a person who deserves to be recognized as a “student.” That’s a shitty feeling, let me tell you.
I got soft mentally and physically last semester. I couldn’t tell a joke to save my life by the end of it. Ugh. If you know me, you know that my entire mental state is dependent on how quickly I can tell a quality joke and elicit laughter from you. It’s my life. Losing that skill was heartbreaking. I became the one thing I abhor: boring. And I just fucking hated myself for it.
Winter break is when I decided to shape up. I cut the bullshit. No smoking, no drinking. Just study, do the work, and follow my passions (comedy and television). So far, this has been working out rather well. I learned that I’m actually a pretty good interviewee (thanks to mock interviews on campus), and that having improv skills is actually a unique plus in my resumé. I’m hilarious again. I’m not being arrogant, I actually am hilarious again (ask anyone who’s spoken to me in the last week). What has getting drunk or high done for me? Not one fucking thing. But studying and entertaining people? They’ll give me the rest of my life.
I must thank one Jeffrey Vega for getting me through this, albeit indirectly (as in, he doesn’t know). Thanks, buddy, (and yes, you’re my buddy, pal). Can’t wait for the show. :{D
I should also thank my sister for being awesome always.
from Anonymous
