Frantics...

Um, grad school is hysterical. I mean, I can't speak for all grad school, but if you're working towards or have earned a doctorate in clinical psychology, you know what I'm talking about. Seriously, a reality t.v. show could be made from this experience. But I suppose that's not saying much. After all, Flavor of Love season 100 is about to air....

Really though... most days I go through my usual routine and do not really think too much about it, but there are times when I get a spare moment and the inevitable question that pops into my mind is "what am I doing?"

This just happened to me right now as I am frantically typing, printing, and stuffing envelopes with 15+ cover letters, C.V.'s, work samples, rec letters, and transcripts (Yes, I know that applying for internship is way worse). It happened last night when I was frantically attempting to memorize the steps of chemical neurotrasmission. It will happen on Friday morning when I am trudging through the snow, ice, and slush to bring these 15+ manila envelopes to my least favorite place in the entire world....the post office (ugh!). And once I get there, I will be frantic about whether or not the postal worker is REALLY weighing each envelope individually, so that correct postage can be calculated. Then she'll probably yell at me (it's a rule that someone MUST yell at me during every trip to the post office) and I'll spend the weekend worrying about whether or not the envelopes will make it (as I frantically memorize more principles of chemical neurotransmission, while simultaneously administering the Rorschach).

You see, everything that I do must be done frantically or else it will never get done in time. Most of the time I feel like I'm running from place to place in much the same way as Phoebe did in that one episode of friends. At times I view the things I am doing from an outsider's perspective...that's when I don't get it. That's when I ask, "what am I doing?" But sometimes I get completely inside of myself where there are no loans to be paid off or completely asinine assignments to be done. Those are the moments when I know why I am doing this. Those are the times when I feel the freedom and joy that Phoebe felt in that episode; running towards the greatest accomplishment of my life, and the thing that I am most passionate about.

But it only gets more frantic from here on out...Year 4 is quickly approaching. At least I'll have some good stories to tell my children (and my 3 blog-readers)