I’m the type of person that gets super excited about all sorts of things. Things like post it notes, frozen treats, new nail polish colors, and receiving things in the mail (bills and circulars excluded). Those are all rather small things, so imagine how unbelievably and indefinably excited I was to get the grad school acceptance letter (to read more about that day, go here).
Even as friends and relative strangers bemoan their graduate student status I remain entirely optimistic. Just this spring several girl friends graduated with advanced degrees and within the next year a couple more friends will be finishing up their programs. Yeah, they pretty much all hate school and are ready to be done, and here I am getting ready to start and so thrilled.
The truth is I know nothing about grad school. It was never an expectation for me to pursue even higher higher education. Undergrad, yes. Anything after that, no. So I have no idea what to expect. A few people have compared it to being online (in the Greek fraternity/sorority pledging sense not the world wide web) which is enough of a comparison to know that it ain’t gonna be pretty. Fulfilling and challenging, sure. A walk in the proverbial park, no. Unless by walk you mean blindfolded runnning at midnight in the freezing cold and by park you mean abandoned road in the middle of nowhere. At any rate I have a vague idea that I’m about to get my ass kicked and love it.
How long will this happy shiny optimistic feeling last? We shall see. But for now let me go on record and say I’m super excited about school, ecstatic even. Let me document this sparkly happy feeling today so in the future when I’m questioning this choice, wondering if I have lost my mind, I can remember that I’m exactly where I want to be.
Ahhh. Spending another night partaking in my newest hobby – housing search on Craigslist. Let me begin by saying this is my first experience with The Craigslist. So far I haven’t secured any housing, but I have been in contact with several people who, from what I can tell, may actually be the Craigslist Killer or a close crazy relative.
I’m optimistic that I can find housing via my Craigslist search since a. other grad students tell me this is, in fact, how they found theirs, and b. I know countless people who post and purchase from this site. However, when someone asks me for my credit score or tells me the reason their apartment/condo/house is available for some super ridiculous amazing price is because they had to report to military duty in some other country/visit sick or dying family members in another country/got a job in another country it seems like a red flag to me. Or am I the crazy one? I can’t tell if this is normal communication or if I am in fact corresponding with people whose goal is to kill me or hijack my identity. *sigh
Well the good news is that I’m heading to the DMV a few short days from now so I’ll be able to actually do some proper housing searching. I’ll let you know how it goes! Until then, keep your fingers crossed and say a prayer!
You know when you want something so bad and you’ve planned your entire life around it only to repeatedly never get it? Yep, that was me and grad school. Three years in a row I was rejected from schools across the country. It really does something to your ego. I have to admit I’m a pretty confident person. My awareness of my awesome-ness sometimes borders on narcissism so you can imagine what repeated rejection did to me.
After what are now vague memories of the beginning of my alcoholism I stumbled across this quote in The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success, “Everything is as it should be.” That did something for me. Yep, cheesy I know, but at that moment it was like something in my brain clicked. I wasn’t where I wanted to be but I was where I should be.
Just like that I let go of the ever so obviously misguided dream of becoming some super awesome amazing sociologist and instead decided to open my mind to the now endless possibilities. Ahhh. There was something so freeing about not having a plan. No plan meant anything could happen. Yes, as a Type A control freak this was a little unconventional but yet so exhilarating! Anything could happen. Something fun! Something amazing! Something I’d never imagined! Something totally different! Something like quitting my very stable with fantastic government benefits job to become the overworked and underappreciated Executive Assistant to the owner of a nightclub.
My family was concerned to say the least. It was all my father could do to feign support. Well-intentioned friends called to see if I had lost my damn mind. Too late. Temporary insanity or not the decision was made and a four year adventure into nightlife followed. Who needs boring grad school when you can get schooled by the city’s current reigning king of nightlife. More on my adventures in nightlife later; for now let’s get back to the best letter ever.
It was actually an email. Driving down Poplar, one of Memphis’ busiest streets, I checked my email only to read the best news ever. As I’m driving, reading, trying not to commit vehicular homicide, and also attempting to hold back an onslaught of what would surely be tears while I simultaneously laughed like a crazy person I realized that this is it. The moment I’ve been waiting for. These folks done messed around and let me in grad school. Ha! Best day ever.