It’s done.
The program has been alerted, my one potential lab has been alerted. I’m sure everyone in my cohort knows at this point, not that their knowing is at all important.
I’m leaving. Moving on. Going home. Blowing der popsicle stand. And all that anyone can ask me is, “why?" and "what are you going to do?”
Well, for starters, I’m going to reintroduce my pasty white (black) flesh to sunlight through copious usage of shorts, skirts, sleeveless tops and sandals – something that is anathema in any reputable lab – and I only deal with labs of repute my friends. Next, I’m going to lay out by the pool and do and think about nothing. But, most importantly I’m not going to do this.
I’ve decided to leave. That’s as far as I’ve gotten. It’s not like there’s some random person sitting outside on one of Purdue’s many corners handing out tickets to life. I’ll know what I’m doing when I get there. The possibilities, much like the inherent stupidity of our government, are endless.
That being said – I feel like I’m 10 again. “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Well, when does one officially “grow-up?” Only time will tell.
I could be a pastry chef and open a kick-ass sinfully decadent bakery.
I could go to law school and be a lawyer as sexy as Hank Moody's defense attorney.
I could go back to school and get a degree in English.
Or maybe one in Political Science (shudders – science).
Or maybe I’ll just kick back and relax for a bit, replenish the old pool of self confidence. Rediscover who I am.
This year has stripped me bare. Graduate school has a way of creeping in and eroding the very fiber of your being. It’s a silent killer. Aided only by the astounding ability of civilized people to pounce on their peers at their weakest moments.
I have got a month left here, and I can’t say that I’ll be terribly sorry to see the end of this journey or the end to explaining why I’m leaving. (Because I can. Because I want to. Just, because.)
Though, thanks to my mother and her brilliance, I can now fire back with “why are you staying?” I don’t think anyone has legitimately stopped to ask this question. Or, what’s more, if the answer is even worth it.