A Bud, Perhaps?

"To love that well which thou must leave ere long."

--William Shakespeare, "That Time of Year Thou Mayst in Me Behold"

"Do I get a Corona out of this?" I ask to the English instructor after I won a quick round in class of a game based on The Bean Trees.

He's not looking at me, and he shakes his head. Apparently, I'm not very funny.

I try again, "A Budweiser, perhaps?" This is an allusion to the LSU Professor who, during his tenure, would frequently bring beer to class for the students who have excelled or accomplished something during either lab or lecture.

Again, the answer is another casual "no."

It's the end of class, and several students are milling around the English instructor, asking him various questions.

I'm standing there besides my desk waiting my turn when I notice another student who is wearing wool slippers. This is worse than yoga pants.

But yesterday, mostly, I was severely distracted and disgruntled. I was frequently overwhelmed with negative, ruminative thoughts, much to the chagrin of my case manager who told me to develop a positive voice in my head to counteract the other voices. Like that is an easy feat.

I contemplated Morpheus, and even sent him a TXT-message yesterday, and when I had returned from school to home, I called him on the phone and left a voicemail.

I read a quick summary of an article from a decent news source that said depression was partially caused by wanting everyone to like you. Obviously, some people just won't.

I can't make Morpheus like me or want to be with me, and somewhere in my brain, I recognize that I should just move on with my life like someone with a missing leg learns to walk again.

My eager, excessive academic performance slowly reveals a greater truth about my personality: I want to be liked by my professors, I want to receive special recognition and attention, and I have no similar feelings towards my classmates. I don't care if they ever talk to me, but I feel the need to develop some working relationship with my instructors.

We all want to draw a certain distinction about ourselves that is readily identifiable by others. We need to stand out or the world will swallow us whole. We will be consumed by the mass culture.

Many people give up on the idea that they are unique. I see this in my mom, who has a Master's in Accounting, but does, as she explains it, "data entry" for the state because she needs the health insurance. How is she challenging herself or how is she growing creatively? What opportunities are lost?