Apparently, it’s been almost a year since I started graduate school. I have very little brain left at this point and, in a moment of freedom at 5 AM, which is as late as I can sleep lately, I looked back and realized everything that’s transpired since I started.
I think I am only comfortable in chaos. A colleague of mine recently told me she was impressed with my decision to go to grad school on top of working full time and having a family. She said she didn’t know how I was getting it all done. I laughed and said “I don’t either!” The truth is, I really don’t know how I’m going to do this. I have no idea what the heck I was thinking, but I’m here now and the only choice is to keep moving forward.
It’s official. I have joined the ranks of the over-burdened, student loan-saddled masses of middle-income America. I GOT IN TO GRAD SCHOOL! Now what?! What have I just done?
Because I clearly do not have enough on my plate, I applied to graduate school. It shouldn’t be overwhelming considering I’m taking a class already, but this is different. This is a program; a graduate-level program. At a different University. I feel like it’s my last shot to get things right, back on track, which is, of course, ridiculous.
Because I don’t have enough going on in my life, I’ve decided to go all in and pursue a Master’s Degree…again. This is not to say I already have a Master’s, but to say that I’ve been here before. I’ve been in this place of sweaty-palmed excitement and dizzying overthinking of what my next steps may be. I have held great hope for my personal future and argued it away with my self-destructive over-analysis. Sounds like fun, right? So why not do it again?!
Suburban Jackpot 