edumacation

Several years ago, shortly before I moved to Hawaii, I can remember being in the Starbucks on Hall Road having a discussion with my Mother over coffee and a crossword. (I have many fond memories of that Starbucks.) She used the phrase "if you go back to school" and I was deeply offended. You see, it was never a question for me. Of course I was going to go back to grad school, it was just a matter of when I would be able to afford it.

And then life happened.

Here I am, so many years later and thousands of miles away still wrestling with the same dilemma. I still want it. And while, on a daily basis, I doubt if that's in the cards for me, I still believe that's what I'm meant to be doing. I've made this so entirely clear to Mike that I now realize that once the moment where a Master's degree is a possibility for me presents itself I may have no idea what I want to do.

It's never as easy as it being about what I want to do. And there's a certain amount of fear involved. I'm self aware enough to know that. I've already spent how many tens of thousands of dollars on a degree, and a good degree at that, and how many thousands more in student loans that I'm still paying off...and for what? What if I choose the wrong program and find myself in the same situation?

I've been told by multiple sources that a graduate degree does the opposite of what your bachelor's does, meaning it opens more doors and therefore jobs for you rather than limiting you. But how do I know? How do I know what fields will be hiring? What careers pay well? And, more importantly, what job will fulfill me professionally?

the only reason i love my job

I love my coworkers. The end.

missing my emchilee

Emily's preggers. (Yay!) The doctor's 95% sure it's a boy already. I'm going to be auntie to a little boy and I'm not even there. I wasn't there for the wedding and now I'm not going to be there again.

I'd say this is the story of my life, but I have to be grateful I was able to go back for my Grandma's funeral. I had that at least. But it would also be nice to be there to experience some of the life I'm missing out on too. And assuming I'll have children of my own someday (soonish), I can't help but think how ideal it would be for our kids to grow up knowing each other.

That's getting ahead of myself. Right now I just wish I could see her.

i'm only half kidding

At this point, I would be willing to move to Iceland if it meant never seeing another cockroach for the rest of my existence.

deep thoughts by megan

Sometimes it's exhausting being me.

That sounds slightly (or completely) narcissistic, but I guess blogging itself is a narcissistic act so I'm already screwed in that respect. Who am I to assume you care about my various musings or opinions? Well, I certainly don't write in order to receive approval. Hell, I don't care who reads this, if anyone actually does...I just need to get it out. Out of my head, out of myself.

I still dwell on my visit back to Michigan. I feel like a normal person would have moved on by now, but my brain seems to live in constant overdrive. Rehashing, analyzing, and complicating experiences that have happened, are happening, or could happen to me. Maybe it's my OCD tendencies or maybe it's the fact that I seem to care a little too much, but it's quite exhausting, not to mention futile.

Or maybe this is just normal. I think it's underestimated just how much of a sap I am. I can't just forget the fact that my Grandma is gone. I can't act like I'm not homesick. I can't forget the conversation my Dad and I had while he was several scotches in and I was two martinis deep. I can't forget how much family and friends mean to me and how empty Hawaii (with the exception of Mike) makes me feel in comparison.

I have just never been able to come to terms with who I was then and who I am now. It's a love hate relationship with no reasonable solution. And at this point, the only answer is to figure out who I do and don't want to become.

Maybe that's where the answer lies.

mmmhmm

Anyone ever use Mederma for their scars? Cause that's what I'm depending on to save my girls from permanent disfiguration.

Shit better work.

the counter is calling my name

The dieting's getting old and I'm sick of being hungry all the freakin time. I must stay strong though! Once we acquire some new running shoes I might be able to get past this plateau I've been stuck on. Yes, it's great that I fit into my clothes much better. And yes, it's great to see progress, but when it stops suddenly and you're still starving your butt off every day...

Well, it just really makes me want a cheeseburger from The Counter. Oh, and those parmesan truffle fries.

What??? Not like I'm gonna do it. Besides, they're closed.