(no subject)
I am in a really cool/weird/scary place in my life right now. Everyone here can remember being a senior in high school, driving around with the questions of whether you are going to make it into the schools you want to go to. I still remember being so dissapointed with my first 3 or so ACT's, and I vividly remember the day I found out I didnt make it in to WU early descision. I just stood in the shower, trying to convince myself that SLU was the place with me. That lasted all of 20 minutes or so, and then, driving down the street listening loudly to my Mudvayne CD, I decided if WU was going to reject me, I was going to go out with a bang, and we all know how the story ends. As gut-wrenching as those months spent wondering if I was Wash. U material were, they were also exciting.
As a senior in college now, I find myself in a similar position. On one hand, I am living some of the best and most exciting days of my life. Being an RA has been a greater experience than I could ever imagine. I come home every day to a bunch of people excited to see me and tell me about their day, and I cant help but feel good. I am also immersed in research that fascinates me and will earn me one of 8 honors degrees in the department of psychology. On the other hand, I feel like I have an ulcer the size of Texas is devoloping in my stomach over studying for the GRE. The stats just play on a loop over and over in my head... 60% of people applying to go to clinical psych DO NOT GET ACCEPTED TO A SINGLE PROGRAM THEY APPLIED TO. I could spend basically a year slowly killing myself to look pretty for these schools, only to recieve a big red no across every application. And then what? Its over. Honors doesnt mean a whole lot if you are checking groceries instead of continuing your education. 4 years of work, and it feasably could end with nothing.
But then there are the other thoughts, the ones that involve getting multiple interviews, and getting to fly the country pimping myself to several schools that are giving me a decent shot of making it in. I picture getting an acceptance letter, and popping the bottle of Cristal that my dad said he would get me (I might forgo it for a celebration dinner, but then again I might not. How many oppertunities am I going to get to have Cris?) I picture my amazing condo down on McPherson full of my furniture and art, and my little italian greyhound and a pool table and a modest bar, and it is all so perfect it gives me goosebumps. Just like it was so amazing and different to go from high school to college, I am so close to taking that step, yet possibly so far away at the same time.
A big part of what path I start down is this friday. This test either makes me eligible to play with the big boys or find another career path. In other words, it is probably the most important test of my life to date, and that is enough to make me loose sleep and almost vomit. At the same time though, it makes me feel cool, in a very sick way.
I will make this test my bitch, even if it almost kills me in the process.
As a senior in college now, I find myself in a similar position. On one hand, I am living some of the best and most exciting days of my life. Being an RA has been a greater experience than I could ever imagine. I come home every day to a bunch of people excited to see me and tell me about their day, and I cant help but feel good. I am also immersed in research that fascinates me and will earn me one of 8 honors degrees in the department of psychology. On the other hand, I feel like I have an ulcer the size of Texas is devoloping in my stomach over studying for the GRE. The stats just play on a loop over and over in my head... 60% of people applying to go to clinical psych DO NOT GET ACCEPTED TO A SINGLE PROGRAM THEY APPLIED TO. I could spend basically a year slowly killing myself to look pretty for these schools, only to recieve a big red no across every application. And then what? Its over. Honors doesnt mean a whole lot if you are checking groceries instead of continuing your education. 4 years of work, and it feasably could end with nothing.
But then there are the other thoughts, the ones that involve getting multiple interviews, and getting to fly the country pimping myself to several schools that are giving me a decent shot of making it in. I picture getting an acceptance letter, and popping the bottle of Cristal that my dad said he would get me (I might forgo it for a celebration dinner, but then again I might not. How many oppertunities am I going to get to have Cris?) I picture my amazing condo down on McPherson full of my furniture and art, and my little italian greyhound and a pool table and a modest bar, and it is all so perfect it gives me goosebumps. Just like it was so amazing and different to go from high school to college, I am so close to taking that step, yet possibly so far away at the same time.
A big part of what path I start down is this friday. This test either makes me eligible to play with the big boys or find another career path. In other words, it is probably the most important test of my life to date, and that is enough to make me loose sleep and almost vomit. At the same time though, it makes me feel cool, in a very sick way.
I will make this test my bitch, even if it almost kills me in the process.