It’s tanning weather in sunny Binghamton, but instead of laying out and enjoying the first taste of spring, I’m sitting here writing this column. Fucking commitments.
Seriously, I’m so bad at making commitments. Often my reply to a question is “maybe” or “possibly,” and even if you get the occasional emphatic “hells yeah,” it doesn’t mean I’m going to pull through. That is, unless you make me pinky swear of course.
But besides the sacred promise created when my little finger intertwines with that smallest digit of another human, I’m pretty shitty at making plans for the distant future — pretty convenient for a graduating senior, right? And don’t lie to yourself, you do the same damn thing.
Why is it so hard to pledge my time and energy to making a future plan and sticking to it? I have a lot of excuses.
In the case of my wonderful and beautiful friends, I will argue that they are “commitment-phobes” too. It takes one to know one, right?
As for my wonderful and beautiful parents and family, I’ll say that I don’t want to voluntarily subject myself to an interrogation about my future, my love life or what I chose to wear that day. Obviously if I’m spending time with family, it must be all about me, right?
And regarding school and work I shall let you, the reader, decide for yourself what my reasoning is for avoiding both of the above at all costs. I don’t want to get out of bed, it’s raining outside, some dude I hate used to work there too, blah blah blah. Bullshit.
Maybe the problem is that I don’t see this as a problem. Why should I commit myself to something that’s going to make me miserable?
This is why I only have one potential option for after graduation. Do I have a contingency plan? Hells naw.
Most people think I’m crazy for doing this. I’ve been told over and over again that it’s irresponsible not to give myself some options.
“Just apply for some jobs in New York,” they’ll say. “It can’t hurt anybody.”
Yes, it can hurt someone. It can hurt me.
I’m not a commitment-phobe for just any reason. There’s not a lack of explanation for why I do or do not choose to get something done at one time or another. Sure, there are my regular obligations. At the last second I always get it together and get it done — school, work, family time, whatever. But there’s a reason why when I’m in control I choose not to let my responsibilities control me.
None of us can avoid the day-to-day duties, at least if we want to be a functioning person with acceptable hygiene who has enough money to drink at the bars. It’s inescapable, inevitable, necessary, all of the above. However you want to put it, we just have to do shit we don’t want to do.
But that’s why we also need to do things we really, really want to do. I really, really want to teach English in Spain. I really, really don’t want to work a 9-to-5 job in New York.
These are the kind of commitments I make, commitments to make myself happy and to remain a purposeful part of society, at least in my own way.
So hells yeah, I’ll try to run away to Europe, and hells yeah, I’ll help you dye your hair purple. I’ll even pinky promise you.