So I'm back from having fallen off from the face of the Earth. I've been orien-tated for Floorfellowing, I'm qualified to lead discussions on Queer Issues, Transgendered Issues and Sexual Assault Issues. I missed the UPS guy 3 times... now unable to pay my C.O.D.
But I do have things to say.
Chapter XVII: Orientation. Frosh.
Loneliness brewed and stewed inside me, like usual, making time flash in waves before my eyes. Parties. Friends. Goodbyes.
Periodically, I’d be struck with moments of awareness. I’d blink, and time would stop—stand still—and let me catch a breath. I was riding the crests of these waves, sitting on top of the world and looking out toward the future. Blink. The wave would crash; fall back, and I’d start again. Life progressed in cycles. One minute I knew where I was and what I was doing, and the next, poof, I was lost—alone, and completely unconscious to time’s greedy passing.
I blinked.
“Can anyone tell me why it’s so important that the floor-fellows work together with the student councils?” Stifling a yawn, I flipped through my yellow notepad and saw four days worth of doodles. A flower. A sunset. A little mad man, with piercing eyes and a crooked smile. On one page a small dog, crudely drawn, with a misshapen tail and one foot larger than the others, looked at me sadly. Above him, four stick-men grappled with one another, fighting over a giant rosebud. Or at least, I think it looks like a rosebud. Amidst them all, scattered notes were crying for attention. I merely scrawled a few words—jotted down obscure quotes from lectures, so that I looked busy in the eyes of my directors.
This is too boring.
“Anyone? Anyone?” A few hands went up around the room. One of the hall directors was leading a discussion on the elections of the hall councils. I looked up to the ceiling, and could see myself, out-of-body, staring down on the crowd and noticing one lonely soul. For now, time had caught up. I’m just another face. Just another faraway and pensive facade, staring back from the crowd. I pictured the room around me spinning, slowly, rotating with the earth, revolving around the sun. I watched the shadows dance on the wall, stretching out then shrinking down again. The dial on my watch was spinning recklessly and all of the sounds of the room blended together into one dull mush, one complete blah.
“Zachary?” All eyes in the room were on me. “Do you have any thoughts on the matter?” Beads of sweat grew on my forehead, and my knuckles turned white around my pen. Swallowing slowly, my eyes flashed around the room. “Ah… yes.” The ears of the directors—my bosses— perked up. “In terms of council… well…” Think fast. Think fast. “I remember from last year, and even the year before, if we can push students to run for council, we can get those who are elected to be motivated and excited about their positions. If we can do that, they’ll organize more parties, more events and overall, make our jobs a little easier.” As I breathed a sigh of relief, the people around me were sighing from disappointment. Phew! I made it. They were eager to see me fail. Not maliciously, but because of their own boredom—someone making a fool of themselves is quality entertainment, no matter where you are.
This is Floor Fellow Orientation. The people were great, the food was amazing and it was great to be back in Montreal. But the days were long and the chairs were hard. Each discussion dragged on with the majority of the participating audience only speaking for the joy their own voices brought to their ears. I always found that I learned more by listening than talking.
