I was eating an entire box of Popsicles in one sitting when I realized: I am obsessed with Popsicles. It was kind of like finding an extra limb or discovering a new punctuation mark. It gave my life some focus.

I mean, there's the obvious work in a Popsicle factory. But I could also be a skilled craftswoman and make miniature log cabins out of recycled Popsicle sticks. Or I could really push my writing skills and get a job copywriting jokes for the sticks. And they double as tongue depressors, so you know, an M.D. isn't completely out of question.

Popsicles, however, melt. This is an apt metaphor for the transitory nature of the most gratifying obsessions. Obsessions are best when short-lived, mostly because I am also obsessed with giving up on things. In fact, giving up on things is my second favorite thing to do, after starting things with the intention of giving up on them.

It's difficult to sustain the kind of passion necessary for a real obsession over time, so I let go once I get bored or tired. This doesn't work for all those people who like to move around and do stuff, but I get lazier as graduation approaches.

Even leisure, when you get enough of it, begins to feel a lot like work.

Planning out seven hours of television with the 'set reminders' feature on my cable box is remarkably efficient. It's just that, sometimes, following through is tedious. I even signed up for a free two-week trial of Netflix just for the constraint on my time-it took at least ten seconds to write "cancel Netflix two weeks from today" in my planner. But now that I have my DVD-rental needs covered through graduation, I decided I don't really like watching things.

It used to be that life was killing time between issues of US Weekly, but ever since I subscribed to their US To the Minute breaking news text messaging service (the latest: Brit and K-Fed bond over baby!), Saturday's mail is no longer the anchor of my week.

I deal in frivolity. Anything to occupy my mind. So while my friends write honors theses and make post-graduation plans, I obsess over Popsicles.

It's a low-maintenance obsession. Popsicles are readily available in the frozen food section of Fresh Grocer or my roommate's section of our freezer. And nothing much ever changes in the world of ice-and-sugar concoctions, which is fine, because I don't care much for research.

So at the very least, while I'm lounging jobless in my parent's basement, I'll be keeping cool and refreshed. Because job offers and panic attacks come and go, but Popsicles are for this summer.


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