The Quirks of Being a Twentysomething

(Author's note:  The spoof of the title of Stephen Chbosky's book totally intended.  Even though I've never read the book.)

During the first semester of my senior year (most of which I barely remember, honestly), the blogger formerly known as Shane Pilgrim, a few friends, and I were chatting with a few friends while perusing the offerings of a book purveyor known on our college campus as "Bob the Book Guy."  We came across a book called Pledged, about sororities.  Neither of us are terribly fond of Greek life, so it immediately interested us.  I read it with fervor and interest, and found that my opinion of Greek life hadn't changed at all.

Fast-forward to earlier today when I was at my local library and came across a book by the same author, Alexandra Robbins.  Intrigued, I looked to see what other books she had written.  One jumped out at me almost immediately:  Conquering Your Quarterlife Crisis.  (I previously wrote about how I want more out of life than my menial job as a cashier/stock girl/whatever needs done around the store employee.)

Of course, the library's computers were too slow for my patience, so I waited until I got home to look it up.  The library didn't have it after all, but Amazon did.  As many (or most) of you know, I don't have an eReader of any sort, nor do I care for one.  However, this book intrigued me to the point that I downloaded a free Kindle app and the Kindle edition of the aforementioned book.

I'm currently only a few pages into the book, but am already enjoying it.

Robbins writes,

After months of regularly beating myself to a mental pulp because I wasn't living up to my own standards, it was the simplest of facts that jolted me out of my funk:  I was normal.  When the twentysomething sources unloaded on me their fears, doubts, and uncertainties, I realized my insecurities were common - and that therefore wasn't a freak at all. That was all I needed to know.

Now who could argue with that?  It's funny how after talking to someone about these fears, or even reading about others', how what seems like insanity is suddenly normalized, okay, and maybe even rational.  It reminds me of how I often wish the stereotypes of illness and disability, be they mental or physical, were not looked down upon by society.  Everybody has their own certain quirks and they're just what make us who we are.  To quote something I read from How I Met Your Mother, "Shouldn't we hold out for the person who doesn't just tolerate our little quirks but actually kinda likes them?"

Patience is a virtue

...or so I've been told.

As of a few days ago, all of my application materials for graduate school have been turned in.  (Which is a good thing, because at least once a week for the past four or five weeks, I've been getting emails that say the office is still missing part/s of the application).  Despite all of this being turned in, I do have to go in for an admissions interview next week (a week from tomorrow, actually).  I'm taking this as a positive sign.

These past few weeks have been, well, interesting.  I got to stay the weekend with Vic as I had previously mentioned, which was wonderful.  Spending time with him is always a fun time.

The week after that, though, was just...insane.  My parents had been trying to ready the house for the graduation party we had on Saturday, family staying with us, etc.  Of course, we can't have a family gathering without the over-bearing family causing drama (and leading to headaches for everyone).  That, and I'm thinking they approve of Vic after having met him because my cousin's husband wouldn't stop dropping wedding hints (we've only been dating for four months, talk about being hasty...).

I helped as much as I could prepare for the party, but between my mom trying to make the house look perfect and dad being a perfectionist about where everything goes and is arranged and the whole nine yards, I just wanted to run away screaming.  It was, in a word, infuriating.  I try to be a good daughter and do my part, but there's only so much I can take.  Working part-time and then helping them was tiring.

Back to grad school happenings, I'm slowly going insane not knowing if I'll be getting in the program.  I don't mind my part-time job that I hold, trying to save money to help fund graduate school, but I'm realizing how much I want out of it at the same time.  But that would require finding a job, interviewing, and getting said job, and probably starting out at a lower hourly wage than I currently make.

I don't mind (most of) the customers and my coworkers are pretty awesome, but it isn't fulfilling.  I don't want to do this for the rest of my life.  I want a challenge.  I miss the world of academia.  As much as I complained about some of my classes, I'm truly ready for a new set of courses, professors, and even assignments.  Work just isn't challenging.  I ring people out, sort ink cartridges, set up displays, and other menial tasks.  I want something more out of what I do.

It's not that I'm not happy with my life, it's just that I'm feeling kind of blah about the whole situation.  I realize how fortunate I am to have a job that I can always come back to, but I need something more than this.  I miss going to class, even holding office hours, and being within walking distance of Vic and my other friends.

This summer is different... it's a weird in-between college graduation and hopefully graduate school phase.  I suppose only time will tell at this point.