When people search for the cause of a problem, the last place they generally look is in the mirror.
Maybe my willingness to stereotype and open my column with a cliché reveals another problem I ought to add to the ever–growing list.
The last few months have been some of the most trying times of my life as I’ve attempted to adjust to my new existence as a graduate student.
What I am dealing with now truly pales in comparison to some of the “real” problems I have faced in my lifetime. Monday marks the fifth anniversary of my father’s death — nothing short of a sucker punch to the gut. No high school senior should have to face the prospect of burying a parent.
There is no big crisis currently bogging down my life: No immediate family member battling cancer, no parent facing unemployment or friend struggling with substance abuse. Instead, I am left to be selfish about the shortcomings in my own life and to dwell on the fact that I am deeply alone living in Gainesville as a graduate student.
I never realized what a privileged life I led as an undergrad until my time at the University of Maryland had passed. Sadly, I can recall family members and older friends warning how seemingly overnight I would be walking down the aisle to receive my diploma. Simply put, I failed to grasp the importance of living in the moment.
I didn’t know what to expect when I first arrived in Florida. I never expected things would be the same as they were at Maryland, where I lived, ate and attended class with my fraternity brothers. Maybe electing to live by myself was a bad idea. A nerdy roommate, or even a messy one, would have been better than having no one to talk to sans making a call on my cell phone.
Things have been rough from the start: I found myself striking up conversations with cashiers, even going so far as to break up my shopping list over a few stores with hopes that I would meet new people.
How’s that for candor?
You don’t need to tell me to get off my fat, lazy ass and stop feeling sorry for myself. I’m just in a position where I really don’t know what to do. Maybe I expect too much out of a friendship. Maybe I set my standards too high when looking for a friend. Or maybe I’m just not nearly as fun or interesting as I perceive myself to be.
I look around the classrooms of my graduate courses, but I fail to see anyone who is similar to me. Sure, I talk to some of my colleagues on Gchat or Facebook, but it’s hardly what one could deem a genuine friendship.
To be fair, I have found myself on the cusp of friendship, only to act overbearing and expect too much out of the still–budding relationship. Unrealistically, I want my newfound friendships to mimic those I enjoyed just months ago as an undergrad.
Grad school has me on the fast track to E.D. and senility, but all I want is for my life to unfold a little bit more like “Entourage.”
I hardly fit the typical perception of a grad student: I rock Jordans; I can still date undergrads without it seeming creepy; and I toss academics to the back burner more often than not.
So, what are you doing this weekend?
