Finished moving out of my old apartment today. I cleaned for like 5 hours this afternoon—the apartment was left so messy when we moved in, I was compelled to clean like a banshee for the next inhabitant. You know…improving my karma. [Squirt, Squirt. Wipe.] I thought all of the surfaces in my house were off-white. But no, they were just filthy.
Moving always makes me contemplative. Lately I have a renewed sense of professional ambition—which I totally lost track of this year. Grades, grades, grades. Shit. Alan and I talked about how college is basically seeing how much crap you can put up with for the man. And what is scary is that most people that realize that school is a huge joke this early usually don’t finish. (Keep hope alive.) But I had a very interesting conversation today with Dean, mostly about how I can look forward to grad school.
Bad news: Dean, “You basically only go home to sleep, fuck, and party.”
Good news: after I leave the ‘Zou, I will have had 4 ½ years of lab experience, including 2 of my own research projects. And because I am taking 5 years, I am going to try and get a pub my last year, and maybe an NSF grant so I can go wherever I want for grad school. (Inner monologue: "and you’re drunk.") Pipe dreams!
As I left my old house this evening, I gently set down my bottle of Fantastic on the worn coffee table, looked longingly off into the distance, and reminisced about what this past semester has entailed. A lot of shit. Was it all worth it? I don’t know, but I don’t feel regret any more.
Not gonna lie: I have definitely done some things I am not proud of, but I suppose that is part of growing? And, really; being naughty is much more fun.