I know finishing my first year shouldn’t be surprising, but I keep catching myself thinking “holy crap, I would’ve never guessed I’d ever be here.” (Where did I think I’d be at this point in my life, exactly? Honestly, I wanted to be a writer, so… living in a box. Or a hippie commune in Canada.)
See, I grew up assuming science was impossibly hard. So I stuck to what I was good at and never branched out – at least, until forced to by Midwestern U’s completely unreasonable policy of “having gen ed requirements”.
So ever since my sophomore year – when I snuck into an upper-level neurobiology class in an attempt to at least make my required science class interesting – I’ve felt like I was playing a frantic game of catch-up.
Even when I was accepted to Metropolis Med two years later, I felt insecure about it – it’s a research school. I went from never dreaming they’d accept a chick with no research experience, to nearly dropping the acceptance letter as I thought, “Oh crap. Do they realize they’ve just accepted a chick with no research experience?”
And this is what it feels like to be that insecure chick with no research, at the end of her first year:
Thank you all for sticking with my blog – especially through all my whining, unfunny science jokes and annoying updates about the state of my room. (Update #18: Currently looks like an Old Navy and an Office Depot grew legs, started running, and collided head-on. Am continuing to find new ways to fail at the game of adulthood.)
So seriously – thank you. It means a lot to know that my boyfriend isn’t the only person reading this. And now I’m off to celebrate!