I'm withdrawing from the university - a decision that has been a long time in the making. On recommendation from my advisor, I am officially taking a "leave of absence," to give me the option of returning after a year without penalty. However, I doubt I'll be back. If I do go back, at least I'll know it's for the right reason then. I feel simultaneously relieved at having come to a decision, and a bit like I've been hit by a Mack truck at the same time. For anybody considering graduate school - sometimes you can have a 4.0 GPA, a research assistantship, your preliminary exam complete, a comps project in the works, a dissertation on the horizon - and you'll still need to leave. Just because you need to leave. Not because you can't handle it, not because you hate school - just because it's the best thing to do right then for your overall outlook. Because you realize you need to take a different path. Because every time you go in to talk to your advisor about your future, you start crying uncontrollably. Change is good at that point. The flip side: sometimes you have to repay thousands to the university for aid packages that are no longer available to you, you feel like a failure even though you know it's the right decision, and you eat too much chocolate.
If you're really lucky, your child can be diagnosed with shingles at the pediatrician's office the same day. Of course, there was no indication that Eleanor had ever had chicken pox in her medical file, but apprarently she did! Poor kid. So - calamine lotion, hand-washing, whining, more chocolate. Fork over a co-pay to a doc who says there's nothing to be done but wait and administer Tylenol.
My last week of school/work involves huge amounts of data analysis, scheduling of clients, and a visit from a Swedish research team who want to learn about our lab (i.e. we have to look REALLY good). Then, it'll be over for a while, I guess. I simultaneously want to weep and say, "Phew." Now what?
Of course, when I feel sorry for myself, I usually find some reason to feel guilty about that, too. For instance, I saw a Roto Rooter van parked outside of somebody's house on my way to the pediatrician today. Anybody with a Roto Rooter van in front of their house is having a worse day than I am. Actually, anybody who DRIVES a Roto Rooter van is having a worse LIFE than I am. And yesterday, there was a stabbing incident on campus near the union at CU. Some poor freshman kid got his throat cut his first day of class - holy cats, there's a way to start the semester! (He's doing okay, but is in the hospital, as is his assailant who stabbed himself in the stomach multiple times - yikes). THAT was a much worse day than I had, even though I had decided to leave the university. I was giving up a career, many years of graduate school, thousands in tuition and fees, my pride - but hey, nobody tried to kill me by slitting my throat. I'll take that as a plus.
Anyway, my plan for now is to be dead-broke while I theoretically take a rest (I say "theoretically" because Gennie will be home with me, limiting actual rest I can accumulate), and prepare to apply for a job sometime in the next weeks to months. I'm a wreck, so that will need to be addressed before a whole lot else gets done. I'll probably ignore the outside world for a while, pull the covers over my head, and suck my thumb. (Kids have a way of pulling those covers right off, though... oh well.) I can finish the girls' rooms and my work in the basement, and finish some garden work that hasn't been done. I can fix some leaky faucets. I guess all that doesn't count as resting, either, but it'll make me feel better. I can love my girls, and play with them in the evenings instead of trying to sneak in "5 more minutes" of university junk needing to be done. I can pet my cats, and try not to eat any more chocolate.
The world stopped... I'm getting off. For a few weeks, anyway.
