The Nothingness of Ideas or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and No Longer Do Homework

My racing mind couldn’t sleep. As I lay on my bed, at 11 o’clock (nighttime), I was caught in memories of the past day. I was studying the lines and crevices of the ceiling…I was no longer in my bedroom; I was in my high school World Lit Honors class.

“Tonight,” Ms. O says, “You will be writing a short story based on a theme from Solzhenitsyn’s book.”

I was about to face my greatest foe: coming up with an idea!

Breakfast? I wondered what I would be having for breakfast? Corn Flakes? Kix? Toast? The pillow became too hot. I lifted up my head, turned over the pillow, and flopped back onto the mattress. You see, dear reader, earlier that day I had sat down at my computer, prepared (as always) with notes, instructions, paper, and pen. My fingers poised themselves at a ready position, like a gymnast about to start a routine, and……nothing……

……nothing….

……nothing.

Two hours went by in my bedroom, in that hot bedroom in the middle of April, on a Thursday afternoon, and nothing came to my head. I tried everything. I scribbled pictures, scratched my head, worked myself up into a frenzy, worked myself down from said frenzy, asked my parents what their ideas were (none were useable), banged my head against the wall, cried my eyes out, and nothing!

Perhaps if I perused the internet I would find a source of inspiration and, one minute later, I lost another two hours; another two hours which I could’ve spent working on homework. By this time it was already eight o’clock (in the P.M.) and I shut off my computer and rushed through homework (which is quite a challenge if you’re a slow worker, like me).

Quickly! First, Geometry! What’s 2 plus 5?! 25. 6 times 6?! 66. a²+3²=4²: Find “a”! …I’ll put a question mark next to that one. Next, Latin! Translate the following phrases: Sic transit gloria mundi: Thus passes the glory of the world. E pluribus unum: Crap! Uh… “One is…something, something, something”. Next, Contemporary World Issues! Define the following phrases: Blitzkrieg: When Blitz krieged. Next! World Lit Honors!

So I sat there and reopened my computer, waiting for inspiration to hit me…and then I noticed it was past the time I usually was in bed (10:30), and I knew…I had failed. I had to get ready for bed or else my mom would yell at me for “staying up too late”.

As I flossed, my mind was still searching for an idea. But what? What ideas could I have come up with? If I could come up with one, surely I would. I squeezed the toothpaste onto the brush. “Perhaps I should fake stomach pain or a headache,” I thought, “to get out of school tomorrow.” I spat into the sink, rinsed my mouth out, and walked to bed. I pulled the covers over myself, and I lay my head over the pillow. Suddenly, I felt a strange sensation of warm and cold, like putting a popsicle in to hot cocoa. The lightbulb in my brain went off; I had an epiphany.

No, dear reader, not with an idea for the story, sadly, but with an idea for my life. Maybe, just maybe, it isn’t healthy to obsessively worry about schoolwork and homework, making life a pain and the little fun that we have in our lives even more fleeting. Maybe it isn’t good that we, as a society force creativity onto children. Yes, we must expose children to creativity, and the sciences, and the arts, and mathematics, but berating them with it will not make them want to go into such fields. People must choose that path for themselves.

So, maybe, not writing a story wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen. Perhaps, life means a little bit more than staying up late typing on a computer. Life means not always staying in a classroom waiting for knowledge to be poured into your brain; life means going out into the world and getting that knowledge for yourself. Tasting air, breathing culture, living life! No truly great ideas are created by waiting for one; ideas were created by seizing them. That means occasionally getting out of the classroom in order to carpe diem.

Then I woke up. I woke up and I stumbled out of bed. I felt like a new man, ready to live life. I put the spoonful of Corn Flakes in to my mouth. “Maybe I’ll drive to school today,” I thought to myself. I put the toothbrush in to my mouth. “Or perhaps I’ll walk to school today,” I ponder. I tied my shoelaces. I said, “Gosh, it’s such a beautiful day out!”

I did a last-minute check to see if I had everything in my backpack. Phone? Check. Keys? Check. Pencil? Check. Calculator? Check. Water bottle? Check. Latin binder/assignment? Check. Geometry binder/assignment? Check. Contemporary World Issues journal/assignment? Check. World Lit Honors binder/assignment? Negati–

I looked in my World Lit Honors binder and I find a piece of folded paper. I un-folded the paper and I saw an assignment heading: “World Lit Honors: Short Story”.

I felt the strangest mix of slight relief churned together with overwhelming disheartenment. How could this have been so? I didn’t type this story. Yet, there it was, “World Lit Honors: Short Story”. Did someone else write this and sneak it in here? Did I write this and not remember?

“We’re gonna be late!” my mom screamed.

“Uh, I’m coming,” I yelled back.

I had gained my freedom by disobeying authority, and it turns out I had followed the rules the entire time. I put the piece of paper in my backpack and headed out the door. Back to the ol’ grind. Back to the nothingness of ideas.