My first year of grad school is over.

Once I knew a girl in the hard, hard times.
She made me a shirt out of fives and dimes.
Now she’s gone, but when I wear it, she crosses my mind.
And if the best is for the best then the best is unkind.

Last week, I finished up everything for my first year of grad school. It was sort of bittersweet. It was insanely busy, and I learned a lot. I accomplished a lot. I read a lot. I wrote a lot. I presented papers a lot. I did all sorts of grad school-y things a lot. It became my life. And now that I have a break, I can’t feel anything except tired. I feel dread for the future. Should I take this summer class? Should I rest? Is it okay to rest?

I realized that Illinois was more than I could stand.
They say working’s best cause poverty is hell on a man.
Now I ride a lazy river through the Mississippi fan,
And if the best is for the best then the best can be damned.

I still think too much, and I spend a lot of time thinking about not wanting to think so much. I crave something inexpressible. I remember something in the book of Acts about times of refreshing. I never understood what that meant, but it sure sounds nice. Unless it has to look like something so damn demanding. It always seems to happen like that.

I spent a few years on the Queen of Spain.
She was a leaky little boat that went up in flames.
When the boiler blew some people started naming names.
But if the best is for the best I guess the best is to blame.

I’m not so sure I know what it means for me to be me these days. I’m not sure if I should let myself be what I do, or if what I do needs to change in some way. I do know that I won’t have time to do it all in the future. Lately, I’ve chosen the things I wouldn’t normally choose, and I feel guilty for doing so. Then I feel even worse for letting myself feel any guilt. I just don’t know which instinct to trust.

Now I listen to my sweetheart and I listen to my thirst.
I don’t spend time listening to other people’s words.
Sometimes they’re right, most the time the reverse.
They say the best is for the best when the best’s for the worst.

Isn’t it okay to be selfish sometimes? Isn’t it inevitable? I can’t seem to escape it. So, don’t go. Stay.

Once I knew a girl in the hard, hard times.
She made me a shirt out of fives and dimes.
Now she’s gone, but when I wear it, she crosses my mind.
And if the best is for the best then the best is unkind.