Early last year I was blindsided by the news that I had not been accepted into the graduate assistantship that would make getting a master’s degree feasible. I was devastated since I had wrapped so many of my plans for the future around the dream that I’d go on to graduate school.
My second year of college found me doing everything I could to be involved on campus. I wanted to have the quintessential college experience of rushing from activity to activity as a student, but the only “activities” I rushed to and from were ice cream and pop tarts. It wasn’t my best year. So after some soul-searching, I decided to apply to write for the school paper.
Today I want to share something I wrote and then proceeded to keep to myself for over four years. I wrote it at a time when I was vulnerable and searching, and I have been scared to share it because I knew that doing so would highlight the flaws I wish weren’t still so visible in my life. I would have probably continued keeping it to myself if it weren’t for the events of recent weeks, but before I dive into that story, here is what I wrote in July 2014:
My goal to “join a group” has hung over my head throughout the past year. This is primarily because I would go back and forth on which group to join. I initially considered joining a running club, but I decided against this after straining my knee and observing how unnecessarily energetic those in athletic clubs tend to be. So after the dream of joining a weekly running club ended, I began to set my sights on something much more sedentary. And that was when I decided to join a book club.
This marks my first attempt at writing a blog post that consists of me reacting to a journal entry. It’s kind of like those YouTube reaction videos, but minus the internet celebrity and visual appeal.
I woke up on the second morning of my Canada adventure feeling rested, and like the day before, I pushed myself to enjoy the morning instead of rushing. Once I was finally ready to go, I packed my belongings and drove down to the beach for a final swim before beginning the trek back to Ohio.
“Do Something Crazy”
That phrase has haunted me ever since I set it as a goal I wanted to complete as a 23-year-old. Looking back, I can see that I wanted to do something that would shake me out of my incredibly comfortable zone, but I have spent the months since then struggling to find an activity that would be considered “crazy.” I had almost given up finding something creative when an idea hit me. What if I did a spur of the moment weekend trip to Canada? I thought about it a bit more and was soon raring to begin what I was sure would be an unforgettable weekend.
Of all the goals that I set in October 2017, the one to “Put an end to any grudges” has intimated me the most. This is because I tend to cling to grudges with the vice-like grip of a toddler clutching their favorite toy. Knowing this as I planned the upcoming year’s goals, I decided to attempt to abolish this practice.
Oh, hello there! I didn’t notice you come into my kitchen. But since you’re already here, why don’t you grab a seat and join me while I prepare some delicious food!
That, ladies and gentlemen, is how I imagine I would start my cooking show if the Food Network would ever get around to greenlighting my pilot. And yes, I would feign surprise at my guest’s arrival every single episode. Anyway, on to the matter at hand.
“Put a bug in someone’s ear”
To tell someone something that suggests what they should do
A traumatic experience that left a lasting mark on me