The sky’s water broke, and there I was, a child, slithering into a graduate school information session, fogged-eyed and tired.
Three professors shared their experiences in graduate school with a small group of students, ranging from freshmen to seniors. I felt like I didn’t quite fit there, the only one sopping wet from the gigantic rain storm that swelled up just in time for me to leave the confines of my dorm.
I realize now that I am destined for some kind of greatness, of which I am not sure what will be. The professors stressed that whatever it is you plan to do after your undergraduate years, you must love it. You must want to do it.
This scared me. Nothing scares me more than complex physics concepts and high-level math…but that’s just what it is…fear. The impending fear of it all is the only thing that is stopping me from thinking I am cut out for grad school. I want a Masters of Science in Physics. Where I decide to go from there is a mystery, but I’ve just realized I am only in my second semester of college and have yet to know the world.
I also know that I really need to work on my people skills…
Yesterday, my cat Puss, a 12-year-old blob of love and fat, my best friend, my go-to secret-keeper and furball to cry on since I was 6, died. I can’t even describe how awesome of a friend he was to my family. He was family.
Today I had a Statistics and Astronomy midterm.
I am so sad. I wasn’t even home to see him to his burial.
How can home ever be the same?