The Weight of Living

I have 2 case write ups, 1 debate, 1 paper and 2 accounting assignments due this week.
I have 7 sport club events at SIU this weekend.
I have 3 sport clubs traveling this weekend.
I have 2 regular IM sports and 1 special tournament.
On top of my 30+ hour normal work week.

But I'll be on my way home in less than 72 hours.

Talk about roller coaster ride…I'm studying in the library, trying to meet with all these different groups (EVERYONE HATES GROUP PROJECTS AND I'M IN 4 OF THEM), figuring out details for this weekend, and trying to just maintain my normal to-do list for the week, but all I can think about is how I'm going to spend Friday with my family, go to my best friend's wedding with my sister and how I'm going to turn off my phone because I won't be able to do anything from 2,100 miles away anyway.

So. Flippin. Excited.

My stress level has been at all time high as I can't sleep and my eating habits are sporadic at best and I am just so ready for this week to be over and to be on that plane back home.
I just want my mommy and mountains and my farm and to just sit with my friends and not have anymore stresses.
Yes, I am a 21 year old who can act mature and can keep composure. I freak out from time to time, but it's pretty rare that anyone sees just how stressed I get. That's just the tip of the iceberg. Today was one of those days where people got to see a little more of my panic-ness. But little did they know that I've already cried 3x today and I'm pretty sure my blood pressure is so high I should go into cardiac arrest and it's only 3:30pm on Tuesday. But I'm fine. Totally fine. (refer to an older blog post on what the real definition of fine actually means)

Calm. Breathe. It's all going to be alright.

I actually am doing better because, a) I'm blogging and no joke, it's super therapeutic b) my staff is stepping up to the plate and i'm so proud/happy/relieved c) my lovely chat with a complete stranger at a cafe totally put me back into perspective.

The conversation started with him asking how far Cairo was from Carbondale, I had to explain that I'm not a local and didn't have the slightest idea how far it was or even what direction it was in.
That led to where I'm from, and how he loves this little cafe because the hype over starbucks is too much for him. Mind you, this guy was in sandals, chinos, a hawaiian shirt, and a straw fedora. He looked like he was about 60/65 and should have a cuban hanging from his lip as he was wearing gaudy jewelry and had his shirt open so that you could see his gold chain and cross on his chest.
Good lord, dude, go back to 1970. This is Carbondale. Who are you?
He went on to talk about coffee and how it's best from Columbia and then that led to how he's been there and if I've traveled and all that jazz...
Heck, why not talk to this old man who looks like he should be on an island sipping a pina colada?

Seems totally rational.

But I'm stressed and he's not going anywhere, my laptop is on my lap so I can't run away so we're going to just sit here and chat I guess. After hearing my story of why I was out in Illinois he goes,
"But you aren't happy here."
"Um, no I wouldn't say I'm not happy, but my happiness level has been higher I guess."
"Don't lie to me, honey. You look like someone bought you a puppy and then they ran it over with their car."
"Oh. Well. Ok, you got me."
"So what's wrong? Why so blue, honey?"
"Well. Ok. Um. This is weird. But as of right now, no I'm not very happy. Work is hard. Sometimes. Mostly because there is just so much at once and then other times nothing. And because I feel like sometimes I'm not being heard. And school sucks. It always has but these teachers are vague and demanding all at the same time. And I hate group projects because I end up doing all the work. And I need to learn how to say no. I can't though and I get walked on. And I miss my old friends. My new friends are good, but I miss those connections I had. And I miss my family…." This went on and on. I couldn't stop. I told him everything from my life at work and at home and how it never feels like I can get away and when I do all I do is worry that something will go wrong.

Just at about the time I ran out of breath, he started to chuckle in a deep voice. And then he sighed and said "You feel that weight? That weight on your shoulders? That's the weight of life. That's the weight of just being alive and living. You're not the first to have these problems. And I sympathize with you, I really do. You're young and just trying to make it in the world, and I've been there darlin' I really have. But you'll be alright. Sounds like you've got a good head on your shoulders and your eye on a very bright future. Don't set the bar any lower. But I'm going to leave you with this. The real key to life is learning how to carry that weight of living on your back your whole life. It doesn't go away. No. Not ever. But it's weight fluctuates. One day you'll be strong as an ox and can carry a lot more than you thought you ever could in a million years. And other days you're going to feel like a bug underneath someone's shoe. Don't you worry honey, life's weight will always be there but you can carry it. Not that you have much of a choice, but once you learn to take time to appreciate the little things like your grandkids' laughter and sharing a good cup of coffee every morning with the love of your life for 40 years, you'll realize that the weight ain't all that bad…" He kinda coughed and grabbed his paper and then said "You take care now, honey." And patted my knee.
And he left me just sitting there in that cafe speechless. I didn't even get to say good bye or thank you. I think I managed a nod.

I don't think what he has said has really impacted me yet. I'm still in shock and still whirling from such an odd ordeal but very thankful that it all happened.

Who knew that my saving grace would come in the form of an older gentleman in a fedora and hawaiian shirt?

To be continued.