Story 526: Laziness Life Goal

             (In a high school administration office, Guidance Counselor and Student sit on opposite sides of a desk)

Guidance Counselor: So, it’s that time of life where we basically go over what you want to be when you grow up.  I see in your transcripts that you excel academically and have been taking every college prep course available; you’ve been doing well in sports, mainly track and field; you belong to several clubs that work with the community; you play several instruments in all the bands here and step in with chorus if needed; you’ve been Class Treasurer, Secretary, and Vice President these past three years with election to President extremely likely next year; you work two part-time jobs most nights and weekends and three during the summer; and you volunteer with both the local humane society and the county paramedics.  My only question for you is this: where exactly would you like to focus all this energy into, as a career?

Student: (Leaning back in the chair) Career?

Guidance Counselor: Yes – your interests seem to be a bit all over the place, so tell me: what is your ultimate goal in life?

Student: (Leans back farther in the chair to stretch) Whelp, my true ambition can be boiled down to one word: laziness.

Guidance Counselor: I beg your pardon?

Student: No need.  (Sits up straight) Listen, I do all this – (Waves hand in the general direction of Guidance Counselor’s papers and computer) stuff on a surface-level basis; my heart’s not really in any of these things, you know.

Guidance Counselor: Clearly.

Student: So, I’m doing all these activities 24/7 now, while I’m mentally and physically able, to get to the point where I’m super-successful and then don’t have to do anything ever again.

Guidance Counselor: Well, that’s called “retirement,” which should’ve been about 50 years from now for you but more likely will be 60-to-70 at the rate things are going.  Mine got pushed back at least another 15 years, so I completely empathize with subsequent generations.

Student: …Yeah, I’m not waiting that long.

Guidance Counselor: Understandable.  So, what field do you plan to be super-successful in, hm?

Student: All of them.

Guidance Counselor: Ambitious, but let’s narrow it down to one or two.

Student: I’m serious.  I plan to succeed in math, science, literature, history, civics, religion, technology, sports, art, music, espionage, agriculture, dubiously-ethical archaeology, monarchy, and space exploration.  (Guidance Counselor stares at Student) That list isn’t comprehensive, though – it grows every few months.

Guidance Counselor: Barring the… physical impossibility of one person being able to do all of that, you’re telling me that you plan to not only accomplish but succeed in all these things solely to reach your end goal of… doing nothing?

Student: Exactly.

Guidance Counselor: Why not save yourself the trouble and just do nothing now?

Student: (Sighs tragically) Societal expectations.  When I reach the moment in my life where I can do nothing with no repercussions, I want everyone in the world to feel that it is well-deserved and not that I’m a leech on society.  Oh, the pressures of communal judgement on such a young, extraordinary mind as mine!  (Grabs head in despair)

Guidance Counselor: (Writes notes) I’m going to recommend that you apply to universities with programs in political science and legal studies - they’ll appreciate your strong work ethic and sense of drama.

Student (Look back up at Guidance Counselor) OK, sounds good.

TWENTY YEARS LATER

(Student-Now-Success stands on a balcony overlooking luscious gardens and many buildings, pools, and sports fields on a private estate, and smiles in contentment)

Success: I did it: today’s the day, at long last.  (Turns back inside to a sumptuous parlor, sits down on a massive couch facing a gargantuan table, opens a tiny laptop, and navigates to a site to address The World) Good people of Earth: today I am announcing my official retirement from all public activities, that have been and always will be in service of this glorious planet.

People of Earth: (Through the computer’s speakers) Awwwwwwww….

Success: (Briefly holds up a placating hand) I know, I know; this may seem sudden and quite early in my presumably long life, but please, don’t cry for your loss of me – the work will always continue, and there will always be hardworking volunteers to succeed me in our glorious opportunities.  Do not weep, do not mourn – I only ask that you remember me fondly, and don’t try to initiate contact: after I end this transmission, I’m never answering another message again.  (Ends the transmission to the sounds of worldwide wailing, shuts down the laptop, leans back on the couch, and closes eyes in bliss.  Several seconds later, eyes reopen suddenly) Now what?

Story 335: Professional High School Student

            (In a high school guidance counselor’s office)

            Guidance Counselor: (Reviewing a college’s application requirements on its Web site) Don’t know whether they’re expecting too much from our youth or our youth expect too little from themselves – almost makes one long for a dictatorship so we can focus our disappointment on that instead.  (There is a knock on the door) Yeah, come in.

            Administrative Assistant: (Peeks head into the room) Hi – your 1:00 is here.

          Guidance Counselor: (Hurriedly looks at watch) Already?  Well, this day is just lost – send `em in.  (The door opens wider to let in a student as Guidance Counselor stands) Hi!  Thanks for meeting with me today – please sit down.

           Student: (Sits at the same time as Guidance Counselor) Thanks for scheduling this after my lunch period – especially today, I hope it means I don’t have to make up the debate that’s going on right now.

            Guidance Counselor: Yes, about that –

            Student: Oh no, am I failing Debate?!

            Guidance Counselor: Quite frankly, yes.  But I think you knew that already.

            Student: This is the first I’m hearing about it!  I can’t believe this!

            Guidance Counselor: …You see, I would empathize, if this was the first time you were failing Debate.  But it isn’t: you already have failed it.  Five times, as a matter of fact.

            Student: Oh.  Has it been five times?  I don’t remember stuff like that.

          Guidance Counselor: Or much else, apparently.  (Drops several bursting file folders onto the desk) My predecessor gave me the heads-up before retirement that you have yet to pass a single course in your senior year.

            Student: Aw gee, that’s too bad.

            Guidance Counselor: It certainly is, since you’ve been in the 12^th grade for the past 10 years.

            Student: Ooh, you mean I hit a decade?  Sweet.

          Guidance Counselor: I’m frankly flabbergasted that you weren’t forcibly graduated after the second year of this, just to get you out of here – you know you’re now older that several of your teachers, yes?

            Student: Age means nothing to me; I still treat them with the same respect as I do any of my tenured elders.

            Guidance Counselor: That’s admirable of you, but missing the point: you shouldn’t be here anymore.

            Student: Why not?  Clearly I still don’t have a good grasp of the material.

          Guidance Counselor: And yet you’ve never requested after-school help, or gotten a private tutor, or even picked easier electives!

            Student: If it’s easy, then how will I learn anything?

        Guidance Counselor (Opens a smaller file folder) What baffles me in the whole situation is this: (Hands the folder to Student) This one folder encompasses your records from Grades 9 to 11 at this school.  (Student slowly turns the pages in the folder) Three whole years!  And you were doing just fine!  Not brilliant, but at least passing!

            Student: Amazing.

            Guidance Counselor: That’s not the word for it!

           Student: No, I mean it’s amazing that all this is still on paper – doesn’t everything have to be entered into a database by now?

           Guidance Counselor: Don’t get me started on that.  (Snatches back the folder) Now.  (Holds up the folder in one hand and slams the other hand onto the piles of bursting file folders) Care to explain?

            Student: I should think it explains itself: I’m a bad student.

         Guidance Counselor: No!  (Slams the smaller file folder down onto the desk and points at Student) No, no, no!  You clearly were not a bad student up until the end of your junior year, your home life is decent, the students in all the grades love you, I snooped around and saw that nothing horrifically horrible has happened to you, and you’re in almost every extracurricular activity we have going on here, so this – (Slams hand again on the bursting file folders) is deliberate!

            Student; You snooped on me?!

           Guidance Counselor: Don’t deflect on a moral/legal point – why are you continually failing the 12^th grade on purpose?!

            Student: (Slumps in the chair in defeat and sighs dramatically) Because I don’t want it to end.

            Guidance Counselor: How’s that?

          Student: I know what’s coming, all right?  The pointless struggle, the escalating stress, the regrets, the feeling that you’re never good enough, the imposter syndrome when you actually are good enough, and the neverending fear of failure, if you’re lucky; the actual feeling of failure for pretty much everyone else.

            Guidance Counselor: You’re failing now!

            Student: Yeah, but that’s on my terms.

          Guidance Counselor: So, what, you’re afraid to go on to college?  You have other options, you know.

            Student: It’s not that – it’s this.  (Waves arms around the room)

            Guidance Counselor: You’re afraid of school?

           Student: No-no, I love school.  That’s the problem: I love the routine, going to class, hanging out with my friends, working on projects, playing sports, going to competitions, feeling like I’m somebody here.  But once we graduate, it’s all over.  Everyone scatters to the four winds to start their adult lives, few of us are ever going to see each other again, and the time is never as special as it was here.  Well, I refuse to join the ranks of the eternally disappointed, you hear me?!  So, I’m staying here forever instead.

            Guidance Counselor: But your classmates graduate every year, so you’re still never going to see them again.

            Student: Not every year: I figured out the third time around that if I make closer friends with them as freshmen, I get all four years outta them as if we were in the same grade.

            Guidance Counselor: I feel for you, I really do, but you can’t live like this.

           Student: Why not?  My parents actually like me staying at home, I have an after-school job that pays the bills, the only one this is hurting is the school’s stats, but I’m just one student out of hundreds of thousands so really, who cares?

            Guidance Counselor: But you can’t be happy flunking for the rest of your life!

            Student: It’s actually gotten to be kind of fun, so your argument’s fallacious.

            Guidance Counselor: Aha!  So you should be passing Debate after all!

          Student: (Shrugs) Eh: take the same class for six years, you’re bound to pick up something.

         Guidance Counselor: (Types on the computer) I’m entering a recommendation that you be graduated at the end of this year due to time served.

            Student: (Sits up) WHAT?!

          Guidance Counselor: I also need a full-time assistant, since the student size has doubled since you originally started your career here – if you take courses in school counseling, you can stay here and work with students for the rest of your days, and never ever have to leave.

            Student: (Slumps again) I guess I should’ve known the dream had to end one day – that’s life for you.

            Guidance Counselor: See?  And you didn’t even have to graduate to experience that.