Capital sin: Sloth

Yesterdey Belendor and I got into a huge fight. He had noticed I'd been acting weird lately, and wouldn't stop bugging me, wanting to know why. So I told him. That was the day before yesterday.

He was very understanding, and agreed it was indeed shitty that I felt this way and that he sympathized, as he just couldn't understand how the hell I managed to live like a plant in a pot instead of acting like a proactive 21st century human being. Mighty helpful, he was. Anyway.

So yesterday morning upon, as I mentioned yesterday, laying sleepless all night thinking about it, I decided I would go back to college and change career. I started browsing among the available options at my dear old college (which is by the way also free) and I stumbled into an old acquaintance of mine: Classic Literature (that is, fellas, the study & analysis of all Classical texts, and plus you get to learn Latin and Ancient Greek). I remembered thinking when I was at college and taking my Classic Culture class I used to think Classic Literature would have been a much better option for me since I couldn't get enough of those gay Greeks (and Safo, oh I love her).

[By the way, when I finally nerve myself up to tell my parents I'm going back to college and they learn which great new career choice I've made, they will be caught between excitement and desillusion; they'll say something like 'My, this girl just doesn't learn anything. Surely by now she should have realized accounting is the way to go...?'. When they come together with their friends and one of them starts bragging about her son, the physician and the other starts puffing her feathers with her daughter, the CPO, my mom will paralyze in shame to tell that her son is studying Philosophy and her daughter is studying Literature... and mind me, not some more-or-less useful branch of Literature, such as Advertising, for example, but Classical... which in turn means that she will only to be able to communicate accurately with her masters by a Oija board... *sigh*.]

As for me, yeah, I know I won't ever get rich by studying this... But I methought: "Heck, I'm already doing a job I utterly loathe and earning a pittance, I may as well study and work in something I like and earn the same..." And besides, Belendor is going to earn piles and piles of money, and I will only have to worry about where shall I park the helicopter. [Yes, he is. I've made a spell and he is.]

That's my viewpoint on the economical side of the affair.

Oh, but I was telling about the fight.

So, I decided upon college and Classical Literature, and I called my no-good little brother, who attends the same campus I used to attend and which I would hypothetically attend again given, of course, that I'm able to get in back again. I told him: "OK, you blockhead, I have a mission for ya. Listen to me (I went on, as I could hear a Cumbia going full blast and his humming along), are you listening? I want you to go to School Services and ask those brooding hens what is it that I must do in order to change my career. (Necessary explanations given). Now, DON'T tell anyone about this, you hear me, stupid? I don't want either Mom or Belendor making a fuss all over this and starting preparations for the Prodigal Child's return to the path of the just, 'kay? Now listen to me, Corvux: This. Is. Really. Important. Got it? It IS very important to me. Will you do it?" he grunted yes and hung up.

Now. I must tell you Corvux is the greatest little brother anyone could ask for, and he is indeed remarkably discreet about my business. He was never the kind of brother who would tell Mom everything he knew about his big sis goings; if he had, I would now be either a) in jail; b) in an asylum, or c) in rehab. Nevertheless he has two flaws: first (and I can't blame him too much because I think it runs in both of us), he is a terrible sloth. Anything that requires him moving more than 2 inches in either direction makes him too much trouble for him. Second, he thinks Belendor is a part of me. Well he is, but not to that extent. Since we've been together, every time I tell Corvux "don't tell anyone about this" he ends up discussing the matter in question freely with Belendor, and I'm totally convinced this is not indiscretion but simple distraction. He just doesn't remember that Belendor and I are indeed two different people.

So, Corvux calls in the evening, Belendor answers the phone, they amiably insult each other as they usually do, and then my beloved sib blurts out: "Put my sister on, I've got to tell her something about that college thing". Belendor becomes immediately interested. Corvux fills him in. Belendor gives me the phone with a salacious wink which I can't figure out at all because I don't know what just happened, and then my brother proceeds to tell me that it can't be done: apparently, once you're registered at the UNAM (Universidad Nacional Autónoma the México for those of you who haven't heard from this excellent institution and home of the Cougars, the greatest soccer team ever) you are also engaged in a contract which liberates the school from any stupidity you may have commited when choosing the career. If you want to change, you're screwed. Those were his words, literal translation: "You're screwed." If you renounce to your account number, you're screwed, too.

So, I'm screwed. It serves me right, I thought as I hung up. I indulged in having a sweet little dream about me translating the Metamorphoses and getting a standing ovation for about twelve hours and it serves me right. That's the price to pay when you're stupid enough to think you deserved a second chance. Well, at least nobody knew about it and I can spare the comforting, 'Why don't you join a crochet circle instead?' crap.

No such luck. I had to confess my humiliation to Belendor, because he was already jumping in the bed in excitement about my breakthrough. I told him what had happened and what I thought and then, absolutely out of nowhere, he exploded.

Minutes:

1. I am depressed. I am a low self-esteem woman difficult to live with because I'm so fucking dependant, he can't do anything about it and by gawd he's getting sick of it.

2. I am a person who's always had things handed over to, and I've never had the balls to go and get the things I want.

3. If I don't know precisely what I want, it's because I'm too self-involved and lazy to go out to the world and find it.

4. I have never had the guts, either, to pursue the things I've started: I have the potential to do a lot of things but I just am too lazy to finish what I start.

5. No, he's not suggesting I should join a crochet circle; he's merely saying that I have to do something for myself because I'm annoying and need some distraction.

6. If things should continue this way, either a) I'm going to hate him because he's so perfect and self-assured and therefore dump him, or b) he's going to get tired of my whining and dump me (which will serve me right because then I'll find out how much I depend on him and maybe I'll start doing something for myself, damnit!)

I'm exaggerating, of course. He got very angry, of course, but all the things are mentioned are warped through my self-esteem issues (and I'm being serious here). He's a supportive, loving partner and I know he's right. I'm lazy, I'm scared, I'm undecisive, I'm a procrastinator, and that's why my life is so screwed.

e.g.:

Today I found out Corvux was wrong (which doesn't surprise me: most probably he just asked one of his classmates about my problem, and that guy belched, picked a lice out of his hair, scratched his balls and said it was impossible). I can get back in. I just need to fill out a form, recover my high school diploma and present the exam again. That's all. There are no problems, except for the fact that, should I not pass the exam and given I left school almost three years ago, I'm out for good. I have two chances: there is a exam scheduled for June and another for October. I'm very confident about it, however: the exam when I first made it was not very difficult. I will have to study some, but hey, I've got tons of time.

But then comes myself. There's a part of me which hates me, you know that. And this part has a voice. And now it's saying things like: 'Don't waste your time. You'll probably end up wasting two more years of your life only to discover you don't like that either. Then you'll drop out again and you'll know you're a big loser. You already know that now, so why go through all the trouble?', or even more stupid things like, 'Do you realize that, if you take up school again, you won't have time to do anything at all?' (yeah, as if I were some social butterfly lacking hours of the day to visit my multiple friends, of as if I were a professional skater who must train eight hours a day instead of a fatass redeemed housewife who stays at home to keep her cat company). Even worse, the realistic argument: 'If you start school again, even if the classes are only afternoons or mornings, you won't earn enough to make ends meet.' That, now, is a powerful argument. If I keep the part-time job, which I could, I wouldn't have the time to make any more freelance jobs. Then again, my salary at the office is only enough to cover my share of the rent. Nothing else. On the other hand, if I don't keep the job and cling to the freelance jobs, I might very well face the posibility that months might go by without my earning even my half of the rent. This wouldn't matter if Belendor had a steady income: we've been doing very well lately because he got this Marlboro gig. But now that's over, and once again all the expenses of the house are my responsability. What will happen if this keeps happening? Answer: I'll be in school, yeah, but we won't have money for food, the bus, the phone, the gas, the lights, etc. and half the rent would go unpaid.

There must be some way to work it out, but I don't see it.

And then there come the even more stupidest of all arguments my mind tries to sabotage me with: 'If you go to school, you won't be able to watch Friends on Tuesdays. Cow (the cat) will be alone all day long. You won't have time to blog. You won't have time to read other people's blogs. You won't have time to play Literati on Yahoo.'

I know it's stupid, but try to listen to this bullshit over and over again at all times in your head.

I don't know what to do.