April 19, 2010

Take care

"I don't care. Sorry, I just don't care!"

My best friend turned towards me, laughing, and asked, "Who are you, and what have you done with Rachel?"

You see, I always care. I care too much, in fact. I'm an ESFJ, in Myers-Briggs speak. I am always the hostess: I cook too much food, and I make you take home leftovers. I'm a fabulous Jewish mother-in-training. I claim to find good in even the nastiest of people; I get upset when everyone isn't able to get along and sing songs around the metaphorical campfire. I'm a social justice nerd, one of those freaks who actually believes that she can change the world. If nothing else, I care.

But, senioritis has officially kicked in. I have 3 weeks left. I am 4 assignments away from graduation. I only have 3 more Shabboses left at Hillel. I have 10 classes between me, and my cap and gown -- and I intend to make them count. I am going to pass all of my classes, so I officially don't care about trivial homework. I am leaving the cliques of this undergraduate community behind, so I truly don't have the patience for tangled red tape anymore. If a program doesn't succeed, or a class is boring, it's honestly no skin off my back.

Because -- actually -- I care very much about making these last moments count. I refuse to spend them fretting over event planning, he-said-she-said nonsense, or grades that won't matter 10 months from now. I care about cherishing this time with my friends. I care about carving these moments into my brain, so I'll have something great to tell my grandchildren someday. I care about making this second count. I care about my loved ones, about my friendships, and my dreams for the future. I care about the good times I've had, not the drama of days gone by; I care about the places we're going, not the mistakes we've made. I care about girls night out, and dinner in with friends, and sitting in the fountain at Washington Square Park. I care. I just don't have time to care unless it counts right now.

twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did. so throw off the bowlines. sail away from the safe harbor. catch the trade winds in your sails. explore. dream. discover. --unknown

and, of course, care.