NOW PANIC and FREAK OUT!

Posts tagged school

I was discussing the weather patterns of Monsoon Asia when I started off my sentence with:

“Winter is coming…”*

And I had to pause because for one second there I wasn’t teaching a class of sophomores, but somewhere in Winterfell running with direwolves. 

Awooo!

*The entire sentence was actually: “these days, winter is coming to the northeastern parts of Asia at a much earlier time frame.”

I rarely open my Facebook account, because Facebook bores me. I was about to update my status, though, so I did a quick look as well.

A friend’s post hit me right in the chest:

“There are two tragedies in life. One is to lose your heart’s desire. The other is to gain it.”

It’s a George Bernard Shaw quote.

The thing is, I finally have what I want. I’ve been waiting for this day for five freaking long years, and now it’s here. 

But everything’s so meh. Where are my tears of joy? Where’s the indiscriminate hugging of complete strangers? Where’s my heavenly host with their trumpets and harps?

Part of me thinks none of this is really happening. I know it’s true on a mental level, but I suppose nothing has really sinked in yet. I’m still completely flipped. I’m not sure I’m doing this properly.

I’m not even at that point where I’m freaking out because I don’t know if I’m gonna do well. I don’t feel anything at the moment.

It’s more along the lines of, “yes, I’ll be teaching Asian History to sophomores in two weeks”. 

That’s it. 

Maybe it’ll be more real once I’m in the actual classroom, ranting and raving like a loon while my students feign attention. 

For now, though, it’s just me and my catatonia again. 

My life sucks.

So I was all ecstatic about my impending thesis defense a week ago, only to have my hopes dashed.

It’s difficult explaining what happened exactly, and I don’t think I want to get into the grimy details.

Let’s just say I’m trapped between a rock and a hard place, or between the frying pan and the fire — any metaphor that involves my destruction will do, really.

So I’m stuck. 

I feel like screaming at someone — any one — but it’s honestly pointless, and I’m not very good at screaming.

All I can do now is wait.

Inuman na!!!

Or not. I’m not going 2012 batshit insane here.

But now that I’m actually nearing the end of my thesis writing days, I can’t help but start thinking about the “what next” questions.  

I’ve been putting off thinking about my future for the longest time, always because there’s always the “i’m gonna do that right after I finish my thesis” excuse.  It’s always there, hanging over my head. It’s never over till the thesis is over.

My life, technically speaking, is on hold.  

I think my life is okay, generally. I’m not whining or anything. It’s blah, yes, but I’m okay, and often times even sort of happy and contented. So maybe this antsy feeling in my gut is just me reacting to the end of an era.

Finishing my thesis would mean finishing my masters.

I went back to school because the corporate world made me want to drink liquid mercury and die.  I went back because I knew that this was what I needed.  I like the academe. I like its warm and fuzzy and nerdy embrace.

But now that I’m almost almost almost near that point where I can actually take a step into that geeky direction, I’m having second thoughts.

Because I like this cushy job. It’s just as nerdy, and the pay is good. I like the people (well, most of them) and it’s been four really good long years. 

So huh. I’m actually sort of confused. 

It’s been five years.

I know this because if I don’t graduate this semester, I’ll have to take refresher courses, which is extremely unacceptable.

So maybe that’s why I had the most horrendous enrolment experience today. I have no idea how one school can render assessment so difficult that waiting for your name to be called is comparable to waiting for Godot.

I fell asleep on a monobloc chair, completely undignified with my mouth hanging open.

It took almost two hours to finish assessment (since I’m a foreign student, hooyay me), then I realised the line for payment was snaking through three floors and it would take one lifetime and a half to finally reach the old people manning the registers.

[Digression: yes, there are old people manning every counter every step of the way. I don’t want to be a bitch and say that old people are slow, but THEY ARE. These are not regular old people; they’re old people who grew old punching machines for a living, which is why no amount of hungry students waiting in line can motivate them to move faster.]

So I decided to go to Landbank, which was slow and tedious but a lot better than waiting at the OUR. After an hour I managed to pay for my education, so I decided to reward my hard work with banana Q and C2.  

I went back to the OUR because WELL WELL WELL your bank slip still has to be validated by — TADA! — old people.  Turns out they can’t even validate quickly, so I heeded a tip (I overheard this is what I mean) and went to PNB to get validated.  

The line there was three people long. I was fourth in line. 

It took twenty effing minutes.

The lola manning the computer spent five minutes attempting to scan the bar code on my Form 5.  Then five more minutes removing staple wires. 

After a few more minutes of mentally urging lola to move faster, I finally got my Form 5 back.

I’m enroled.

It took six goddamn hours of my life that I’ll never get back, but I’m enroled.

Now to get on with it and graduate.

I can’t hear you over the sound of how awesome I am.

BOOYAH.