The Truth About Grad School

Thinking about grad school? Laughing about the fact that I'm IN grad school? Well, whatever the case may be, here are six things I learned during my first semester in upper-level education:

Catching Up With March

The thought of not having a single post for the month of March sent me into a tiny panic, especially considering that my my two-year blogiversary was on the 15th of this month. Yay, go me, wish I could have given it a big how-de-do like last year! But I guess two years isn't as exciting in blog anniversaries as it is in relationships, sobriety achievements, or employment security, at least not when you haven't been able to blog much, if any, lately.

Right now, I'm working on a huge field study for one of my classes on my Spring Break. Did I mention that Spring Break in grad school is kind of a joke? Thus far, I've done three classroom observations, caught up on housework, helped J move, and worked on the four papers I have due shortly after returning to class next week. I've been daydreaming about warm beaches and fruity drinks a lot, but it's not the same as the real deal.

Oh, did I mention I moved earlier this month myself? S and I got kicked out of our old house by the aforementioned banshee of a roommate for various reasons, including but not limited to a coffee maker. It was an added stress to us in every way to have to relocate, but now that we have our own cute, little cottage without drama and with plenty of working appliances, we're much happier. Even my dog is palpably more happy.

I have so much to say, but the inability to remember it. The only thing fueling my exhausted brain these days is coffee, so instead, enjoy these things I've been into lately:

Yeah, but what about the 89 OTHER body types? God, fashion designers, you stress me out.

The overwhelmingly positive response from most of the country concerning gay marriage rights.

Actresses Without Teeth, in one of those "This is so horrifying, it's uncomfortably funny" kinds of ways.

All the Game of Thrones press leading up to the third season premiere. TOMORROW, TOMORROW, I LOVE YOU, TOMORROW. YOU'RE ONLY A DAY AWAYYYYYY.










Seeing Sara Bareilles in May, and seeing John Mayer in September. (His tickets aren't on sale yet, but I'm trying to have some positive self-fulfilling prophecy go on here...)

Master Adult ADHD

I'm not a stranger to throwing around medical terms, whether for hypochondriac or hyperbolic purposes. I know quite a bit about quite a lot of them, so they're used in daily conversation without a thought. But as I've been sitting in front of my homework for hours... again... I've wondered... again... if I really might have this horribly inconvenient ailment.

You won't be surprised to hear that I WebMD'd that shit as soon as I got the chance between classes and homework and dog mommying and supergirlfriending and roommating. It seems I've won the symptom lottery:

Anxiety! Chronic boredom! Difficulty controlling anger! Difficulty concentrating when reading! Procrastination (aka this)! Low frustration tolerance! Mood swings! And the kicker, self-reporting psychological maladjustment more often!

But then I'm like "Look, girl. You have anxiety because you have an anxiety disorder. You're angry 'cause you have a crazy ghost of a third roommate. You're frustrated easily because you're as clumsy as those poor "before" folks on infomercials. You procrastinate because it's easy, you self-diagnose 'cause you're a hypochondriac, and you are chronically bored because...."

Wait... why am I chronically bored? I am literally ladyballs deep in schoolwork. My Roku is full to the brim with all of my favorite relaxations. I have a dog to play with, friends to grab coffee with, a boyfriend to drive crazy/love/the same thing/amiright?, at least 25 things on my to-do list, and 50 books to read.

But wait... I can't read because I keep reading the same sentence for 10 minutes before I realize that I haven't turned a page. I have been a reader my whole life, and a fast(ish) one at that, and now I can't read 15 pages in less than an hour. Why can't I read?

Okay. Clearly I have an attention disorder then, right? It's cool. I guess I'll be modern and go to therapy. Get treated like an ADULT, you know?

WAIT! I don't have money.
WAIT! I'm going to get money soon.
WAIT! Even when I have money, I can't take any of the medicines they prescribe for ADHD due to my irregular heartbeat.

WAIT! Maybe I'll just have to rub some dirt in it, stand up, and get through it all anyway. Because I can. And when I can't, I have people who will pull me up and make me. And when I'm done, I'll have a Master's to show for it.

And all of you assholes will have to call me Master Jedi.