I like to be prepared. If there’s anything that decades of procrastination and laziness has taught me, it’s that events in life (my life, at least) tend to be less painful if I prepare. (Strangely, I do not apply this rule at all to my writing time or writing space; in fact, I tend to do exactly the opposite. But that’s another subject.) Yet if there’s anything this summer has taught me, it’s that there is no amount of planning and organizing that could’ve prepared me for the enormous task of getting ready for grad school.After compiling my to-do list a few months ago, I was crushed by the enormity of it all. There seemed to be too much to do and far too little time. My fiancée and I had timed it out such that we had to move twice -- once to her new place in Chicago, and a second time to my new place in Champaign -- in the matter of weeks. We were downsizing our large two bedroom apartment to a more affordable one bedroom (in both places). Less space, which means less stuff. Less stuff, which means throwing things away. And throwing things away, things that you seem to always have a sentimental attachment to, is never pleasant. I also needed money to save as much money as possible, so I stayed at my place of work perhaps several weeks past when I should’ve. Working 40-50 hours a week while trying to move, study, write, and prepare is an inhuman prospect at best. Most nights after work was spent on the couch, simply vegging out. There was also the studying. Like Jennifer so eloquently covered in the last post, I spent more time preparing for craft classes, reading craft books, textbooks, handbooks, chapbooks, than I did writing in the whole summer and before, probably all the way back when I started to seriously consider applying to grad school. I don’t think I’ve been a writer in over a year. And still, even with all that preparation for grad school, I do not feel anywhere half as prepared to class and teaching as I want or intend to be. It’s a horrible feeling.
And then there were all the little things. The frantic rush to “use” my health insurance one last time before leaving my job for good. Thanks to that, I now have a hole in my head where an impacted wisdom tooth used to be. Forwarding addresses. Closing accounts of old utilities, opening a half dozen new ones. Spending hours in line at the DMV to get the license and passports renewed.
So I close with this. It seems to me that this summer has been one of the most stressful I’ve had in a while. Where I had (mistakenly) thought after getting accepted, “Gee, now the hard part’s over, thank goodness I can finally relax,” I’ve actually found it to be a ton of work. Is this the experience others have been having? How have you been coping (or not)? Has the amount of work and preparation surprised you (or not)?
