The other day, my friends and I went to the Louisburg Cider Mill to drink cider, pick out pumpkins, jump on hay bales, and soak in the last bits of fall before winter prematurely swept in to settle down for a while.
We decided to make the corn maze a little more interesting by sending Sara and Crystal in early to hide so we'd have something more to look for than...the way out.
As I wandered the maze, aimlessly turning right and left on impulse, I realized that this activity was not fun because it reminded me too much of how normal life really is. Stupid humans. What other species would go to such great lengths to invent a game where the point of it all is to get lost and try to find your way through stalks so high you can't see over them and paths that seem to be noble but lead you in circles and land you back where you started?
The muddy path along rows of un-harvested corn reminded me all too well that I don't know what I'm doing, where I'm going, or how I would get there even if I did.
I'm done with school in December, friends, and I'm starting to freak out about it.