All the Greeks to Me

George in Chicago. December 2009.

My days here are almost always very full. Today, for example, was a typical day. I woke up early, biked to school, hit the gym, went to Theory class, TA'd for Screenwriting, went to work, biked home, did laundry, made dinner, called my sister, went to a surprise party.

But when I sit here, looking at this big white box, I don't think I have anything of value to share today. And that's so weird, isn't it? I can be awake for seventeen hours and maybe nothing new happened. New things like I ate a Luna bar I've had since my senior year of college or I got a chocolate cake from George in the mail today. Yes, new things like that, but nothing innovative and worthwhile. Isn't that strange? That so many days are interesting but also not? That so much happens, but it doesn't.

We're studying Plato in Theory and all Greek history seems like it happened in one day, but it was really hundreds of years. I lump Sophocles with Aristotle. That's like someone in the future imagining me and Ben Franklin bonding over froyo.

We were only one push from the edge.
There it is.