Re-Connecting

Sometimes I act and feel like a robot. My life becomes one long list of papers to write and appointments to make and e-mails to respond to and people to call and bills to pay. I worship the god called Productivity, and it gets me no farther than the Joneses. What it gets me is anxiety and joylessness and a lack of connection to the parts of me that are creative and funny and personal and life-giving.

Today I remembered that I like pop culture and funny people and writing. I've always loved to write. I remembered that I am human and an artist in my own way. With my words and my wit. And my love. I forget a lot--that I have my own things that make me...me. The robot spends far too much time modeling the success of others, trying to make it my own, when really it's not. The robot takes in and regurgitates and often short circuits from sensory overload.

I Google-stalked my new crush. He has articles and student reviews and fancy titles on the internet. I Google-stalked myself. I have a million other people with my same name. But we are not the same. It's easy to forget that we're not just a name in the sea of others. Not just one of many.

I am Jennifer Nicole Petersen. I was the best reader in my kindergarten class. I am a smart ass. I'd have a hard time labeling all the states on a U.S. map. Today I had to Wikipedia "Scandinavia" to make sure I was clear as to what countries aforementioned crush was referring to in our conversation the other night. I use names of internet search engines as verbs. I don't know shit about history, but I am smart. I know pretty much every word to The Lion King Soundtrack and my role models growing up were the members of The Babysitters Club. Yes, the book characters.

Take that, Robot.