Several weeks back I took a vacation
with my mom and sister to New York.
Normally, I feel in place in the city.
Not in every way at home, but in place. Normally, the bustle and anonymity is
invigorating. But this time it made me
feel very, very small.
I’ve always been a girl who plans.
Schedules. Draws up lists. Color-coordinates. Day plans, week plans, year
plans. Five year plans. Got it?
In the last few years I’ve become even
more particular – “excessively fussy,” some say -- about life structure. My structure, and the protection
that it brings. So you can imagine the hell
that broke loose when I went to register for next semester and realized….I
will graduate next semester.
WHAT?!!
This is only my fifth semester in Provo! FIFTH. HOW IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE.
WHO GRADUATES FROM COLLEGE AT 20?!
WHO GRADUATES FROM COLLEGE AT 20?!
I became un. hinged. Manic, I tell ya, Jose.
M-A-N-I-C.
My 4-year schedule has been planned
since freshman year. And somehow, some way, I shaved two full semesters off
without going summers. (Shout-out to my highly-capable mother, who
blessed/cursed me with the gift of draconian efficiency.) It was a freaky combination
of AP courses/ classes that counted for dual requirements/ testing out of
credits in my major. Even my counselor did
a double take. “Wait, is that right?
What? How did you do that? You barely
have enough BYU credits to count as a junior, but….you’re done.”
And then came the options. A
suffocating number of options.
After a hysterical episode (Or two. Or
five. Or like more than that don’t h8) I put it out of my mind and left to
enjoy the week. Well, until I was cornered by my mother on the plane ride home.
How do I break this tiny yet
indestructible plastic window? Will I be sucked into the night abyss by a swirling
cloud vortex? Is my elbow strong enough to do that? (It wasn’t.)
So I returned home and I thought. And
weighed and prayed and graphed.
I owe a lot to friends and family who
listened to me reason, out-reason, and re-reason through the situation. (A lot
of unreasonable occurred, too.)
Sometimes I’m terrified and sometimes
I’m nauseous and sometimes I’m so excited I can barely stand it. But like….mostly the first two.
Because I don’t know what happens
next. I have no freaking clue.
And I just really don’t want to wear a
pantsuit.
5 comments:
You are beautiful and are going to rule the world one day. I just know it. Also, Congraufreakinlations on graduating like a beast.
you. go. girl.
well, i think that's awesome. congratulations! it takes a pretty brilliant person to pull that off!
How about, here's a plan: write a book about how to take over the entire world. Because we're all trying to learn your secrets.
Wait. Pantsuits are actually way more comfy than you think... #kgraduatingisscary #dontmakeusdoit
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