This World is Not My World

I live in a world where I work my ass off, pay my own way, am responsible and work my *ass* off. What do you think I get for it? Nothing. I get absolutely nothing. And the worst part is I can't even talk to anyone about it. The people who would even understand a little are either too stuck on themselves, are in a better situation than I am, or don't care. My mother would only say "Oh sweetie, you ARE smart!" My dad would say "That school is dumb! You're a smart girl!" My friends are...anthropologists. And my other friends are too smart. I never felt like a failure until I went to grad school which, ironically, was supposed to give me enough certification so that I would never feel like a failure. Yay me.

I might just quit. Really thinking about it, but I just might quit completely.

The End is Near!

I am quickly, yet slowly, approaching the final days of my first semester as a graduate student. I've barely had time to think about anything outside of school/class for the past few months and I'm wondering if my brain will know what to do with itself with all the free space and time it will have. I'm also fairly certain that my body won't know how to process actual food since the main staple of my diet is caffeine, in liquid form. I wonder if I'll be able to sleep through the night or if I'll constantly wake up three or four times, jump out of bed, and make sure I haven't forgotten the significance of Olduvai Gorge or if I actually did finish that article critique of postmoderism. And I also wonder if I'll remember to eat dinner before I'm in bed. It's interesting how a few months can change your outlook on your life and what you want to do with it. I'm much more critical of myself than I have been in the past, and while I've tried not to be so judgmental I still am...though a lot of goes on inside my head silently, now. I think that as anthropologists there's something inside of us that's constantly observing, analyzing, and trying to figure out how to write a critique, ethnography, case report, etc of whatever we're experiencing, watching. Just walking around the campus today I listened to four (obviously undergraduate) girls talking. I realized that my life in undergraduate was actually pretty simple and easy. I thought that it was hard, but it wasn't. Things were just...easier. It's tough growing up, having to deal with different things, leases, paying the rent/bills, paying off the credit card bills every month, and still trying to maintain some sort of social life, though at this point anyone and everyone that I would be social with here is now in the same position I am. Trying to accomplish everything while running off minimal sleep, caffeiene, and the occasional beer. I wonder if when I'm thirty, tired of what I'm doing, if I'll ever want to go back to school for something else. I don't really ever see myself working 9-5 Monday through Friday. But I realize that I can't expect myself to keep up with the pace of schoolwork for the rest of my life. Oh, the quandries of growing up.