New York was lovely. I was so ready to come home, though. The flight back was miserable, compounded by the woman behind us. Imagine all of the stereotypes about people from Queens (yeah, the negative ones), and then multiply them by 10. It was ear-splitting, nails-on-a-chalkboard unbearable.
Alas, I arrived home to a very anxious boyfriend and a beautiful bouquet of roses. (I haven’t gotten roses since high school – this was unexpected and wonderful.)
I will make you a lovely post and show you pictures, but until then, I’ve got a darker cloud hanging over my head. I’m in a state of terribly unhealthy uncertainty.
There are so many wonderful things. There have been so many wonderful moments. My life thus far has been a very beautiful place to be. Ever since I found out that I didn’t get into grad school, I’ve been anxious. Not the kind of anxious that threatens to overwhelm you at any moment, but the kind of anxious that creeps through your body, ever-present in your blood, your thoughts, your dreams. I’m uncertain of the future, and I am well aware that I stand on the edge of a great divide. It’s now or never (sort of). Where I am situated offers me a wide variety of options and it’s time for me to do some soul-searching and figure out where I want to belong in this world. That’s the easy part, even though at the moment, I am entirely overwhelmed. After that, I have to set forward and strive to accomplish the goals I haven’t set yet. You see? It’s all so much and I’m finding myself incredibly jealous of my friends who know exactly what they want to do.
On the plus side, you can look forward to more years of panicky blog posts and overstated melodrama, so that may or may not be a plus.