Minor Details

On Sunday I bid a sad farewell to my math minor.  After going back and forth for days about what to do about my courses this semester I finally came to a set decision.  My math course just had to go.  Dropping it meant I would not be able to fulfill the requirements for a math minor before graduation, but it also meant not taking six courses this semester/preserving at least some degree of sanity.

The thinking process I went through to get to my decision varied.  There were moments of panic and irrationality where I questioned just what kind of impact not having a math minor would have on my life.  Some thoughts I had were, "WHAT IF I CAN NEVER GET A JOB WITHOUT IT?!?", "WHAT IF I DECIDE I ACTUALLY DO WANT TO GO TO GRAD SCHOOL (I don't want to go, I mean, I really don't want to go) AND THEY WON'T ADMIT ME?!?", "WHAT IF THIS MEANS I'LL BECOME A LONELY OLD WOMAN WHOSE ONLY COMPANY IS CATS?!?" - I was not kidding when I said irrational...

And then there was a moment of clarity, dare I say an Oprah-worthy "aha!" moment - on second thought, I don't dare, it's great that Oprah gives away cars and stuff but sometimes she can be a bit much.  Anyways, the point is, I will survive without a math minor.  I will survive, find a job, go to grad school if I end up changing my mind, and hopefully I will not become a crazy old cat lady (I prefer dogs, so really there's a larger chance of me becoming a crazy old dog lady).  I will survive and gosh darnit, I just might thrive!

The stress that came with my decision reminded me of my senior year of high school.  Remember that time when every quiz/test/project/assignment appeared to be the most pivotal event of your life.  College applications and the acceptance/rejection letters that followed really brought out the crazy in people.  One of my teachers senior year gave us this advice, "Girls, just don't stress about it."  Well that's helpful...not.  Another teacher decided to postpone a lecture and share some words of wisdom.  She reassured us that while high school is an important time in one's life, it is certainly not the most important time in one's life.  She sympathized with the stress we were feeling but also reminded us that one assignment would not make or break our academic careers and although rejection letters can be real Debbie-Downers, one acceptance letter is really all you need.  Basically she reminded us that there was more to life than a high school GPA - sometimes at an all-girls Catholic high school, you need to be reminded of the obvious.  Guess whose advice made more of an impact?

So this weekend, when I was contemplating my future, I just tweaked my history teacher's advice and realized that my life will not be solely determined by the minor degree I earn, or fail to earn, during four years in college - as long as I complete my major, right Mom and Dad?  Sure, it would be great if we could all "not stress" but, that's not feasible.  Instead we can choose to step back and take a closer look at what truly matters - hint, it is not your high school GPA.

That's the Way the (Fortune) Cookie Crumbles

Tonight, my fortune cookie at dinner read, "It's time to break out of your routine and try something new."  Maybe my fortune cookie was trying to say, "Hey, why don't you snap out of this routine of having a blog but not posting to it, you ninny!" 

So here I am, posting after a long hiatus.  Blogging is a great thing to do if you're procrastinating school work, not if you're enjoying the dog days of summer.  There must be something about the dim light of a college dorm room that gets my creative juices flowing and my blog posts a-typin'.

Tomorrow is the first day of classes for my senior year of college - woot woot.  Is it weird that for the past three years, I've worn the same tank top on the first day of classes.  Freshman year I planned my outfit and the shirt was relatively new.  Sophomore year I think it was just a strange coincidence.  Then Junior year rolled around and it just seemed silly to wear something else.  So yes, I've worn the same shirt all three years and tomorrow should be no different, right?  But what about this fortune cookie message?  Those things are always right, just ignore the occasional grammar error.  Is it time to change my routine and switch up my "first day of class" outfit?

While this fortune cookie might appear to be fitting for the start of a new school year, I honestly think it would be more appropriate a few months from now - when exams are over and my diploma is in my hand.  Then it will really be time for a new routine.  I'll join a group of new graduates trying to figure out where their life is headed and if it's actually the direction they want to go in.  It will be scary and exciting, filled with challenges and rewarding experiences.  The routine of college will shift (hopefully) into the routine of full-time jobs and a whole new set of responsibilities.  Next year will be all about trying something new.

That being said, for now I choose to ignore my little fortune cookie scrap of wisdom.  I like routines and habits and schedules.  I like being organized and knowing what is coming next.  I especially like my favorite blue tank top and yes, it will make an appearance on my first day of classes.

Back on the Blog

Don't you hate those people who start blogs and then go on to just ignore them and neglect posting anything for weeks!  I guess I really got into the whole summer mode...

I've tried writing different posts but for some reason I just could not get into the swing of things and always ended up departing the blogosphere long before completing a post.  Hopefully this one will make it all the way to the "publish post" button! 

Since I've been home from school, I've caught up with many old friends and a topic of conversation that keeps coming up is this whole impending adulthood thing.  Apparently we are actually growing up, despite all of our efforts to forget that the real world is just around the corner.  I'm talking about the real world that consists of full-time jobs, committed relationships, worries about the future of our country, and decisions of what health insurance plan is best.  I'm not talking about The Real World: Las Vegas - I mean, there's a lot to talk about there, but just not for this post.

A friend of mine described "young adulthood" as the time when we've lost our place at the kids' table but haven't carved out a place at the adults' table yet...a bit of an in-between stage.  I'd say that's pretty accurate.  One of the first days I was back at home from school, I came into the house and asked my mom if I could go out that night with a friend.  Her response was pretty much, "Maura, you're 21.  You don't really need to ask permission for things like that anymore."  Oh.  I guess I didn't realize that.  Obviously I can't do whatever I want, but it makes sense that there are certain things I no longer need permission for.  It was one of the first times I realized my childhood had officially left the building.  I'm still not sure of how I feel about this.

Maybe I would feel more adult-like if I had a fancy-shmancy internship in Boston like some people I know.  Maybe I would feel more adult-like if when I bought beer the guy working behind the counter didn't say I looked like I was fifteen.   Maybe I would feel more adult-like if I found a summer job that was more suited to my major of economics than babysitting is.

But then again...

Maybe I'm ok with foregoing a commute into the city five days a week for an internship that might look great on a resume but bores the heck out of me.  Maybe I'm ok with looking like a high school freshman now, because perhaps my "youthful" look will resonate well into old age.  Maybe I'm ok with playing working with kids people who enjoy crayons, glitter glue, and pancakes just as much as I do.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, I want to hold onto this in-between stage for a little bit longer.  There will be plenty of time for resume-building, forty hour work weeks, car payments, apartment rental fees, and every other little thing that comes with this whole impending adulthood thing.  For now, I am going to soak in my last (fingers-crossed since this job market sucks), real summer vacation. 
Babysitting two days a week can be rough and of course finding enough activities to fill my five day weekends is exhausting, but somebody has to do it and it might as well be me.  This whole in-between stage might not be so bad after all...

Look at that, I made it to that little orange button.