Just in case you were all wondering- I got into the Master's program at the school in DC, where I am moving in less than a week.
Yes, that's right, until this past Thursday, even though I told everyone I was going back to grad school, I wasn't actually sure about the grad school part. "Going back home" sound more like "I'm a loser who is going to move in with her parents and give up her salary and benefits package for a giant screen TV and irresponsibility" then "going back to grad school" does, so I went with it.
I no longer work at Big Name University. I'm not an "application specialist/ accountant/ office bitch" anymore.
I'm a grad student.
Right now, I'm busy pretending that I am not about to leave city I love, my family of friends, and the admittedly shaky identity I spent two years rebuilding for the great unknown. I'm practicing the fine art of keeping my brain heavily distracted via TV and trashy novels. Sometimes I even combine the two, which I think is a little like what heroin does to the brain. Who wants to feel honest and real feelings? Not me, that's for sure, even though I have spent thousands of dollars in therapy in order to do just that.
Although, I suppose therapy has indeed changed me, because I am consciously aware of my severe denial. I am consciously acting against my sub-conscious. Huh. Good thing I have one more session left, because we're obviously going to have to talk about that instead of talking about me leaving.
Leaving? Me? What?
must. turn. on. TV... must. read. book.. and. eat.. carbohydrates.