Grad school: I'm dumber than I thought

Halfway in my first semester of graduate school, I affirm the truth: I am as lazy as a sloth and as dumb as a brick.

Let me first start by saying I don’t usually complain about work. Sure, to my loved ones, I whine occasionally, not because I hate things, but because I enjoy having them tell me they love me anyway.

But graduate school has taken the daylight out of me. Never in my life have I felt so incompetent. I’ve become so much of a nerd that now I talk about classes on my blog. Yikes! How exciting! I mean, who does that?

Perhaps since my day-to-day life now revolves around the classrooms, my office, and my apartment, there is little to distract me from the pile of unfinished work that relies solely on the knowledge I long ago had forgotten.

I was oblivious enough to spend a third of my paycheck on Sephora before realizing I will be spending 90% of my waking hours facing a computer screen and textbooks. Such ideal candidates to look fabulous for, right?

      --> Bottom line: Think twice about graduate school. Just because you rocked in undergrad means nothing here. Nothing.

…

There was a time when I was creating so many memories in so little time, hastily, hungrily, zealously, with a burning flame inside my heart. I wanted to make every second count. Now, gone are the extraordinary life stories of New Yorkers, infused in emotions that made my soul swell, ebullient with all I was learning.

In this small Midwestern town, it’s simple to the point of confusion: I don’t know what to think and how to feel most of the time except for a mild dash of nothingness. No adrenalin rush. Inside me is a starved songbird longing to hear and feel people.

Having said that, consciously or not, I’ve been adjusting. I sometimes find time to do everything to remind me that maybe, just maybe I’m not a dumb ass. I pick up meditation. I read. I learn to love not with what I have, but with who I am.

…

Some things in this universe are too beautiful to pass up: the eternal blue sky, the first reddening leaves of fall, the first bite of cheesecake I haven’t savored in a while, my lovely friends who are never too busy to hear me whine, Juliette.

And me.