Half written sentences have been the mainstay of my mental life lately. The severe apathy is welling up in several parts of my life, with a backlog of stress surrounding everything else with its halo. I had someone ask me once how emotion and apathy actually function together…well, that, baby, would be my life. I was not given a manual. Logic is not my foundation, and within the stream, I actually could not be happier for it.
I’m starting to get to the end of grad school, ever so slowly and ever so fast. I need to work on finalizing my portfolio and then stress about getting my committee together for my oral exams. A week ago I was told that a member of my committee did not have specially endowed graduate faculty powers. The documentation I handed in to them in December? I guess they hadn’t checked it that carefully enough, but the paper scheduling my exam at the end of April – oh yeah, that they checked.
Then on Thursday, two days after handing in the memos I had scrambled for to imbue my committee member with these X-Men-esque powers, my ueber boss tells me that the grad school called for me asking for transcripts. He shrugged and gave me their number.
“Hello, returning your call.”
“…You called my boss asking for transcripts.”
I hear the shuffling of papers, “Are you applying for a scholarship?”
“That would be a no.”
“Hmm, that’s strange.” More shuffling, “Oh here you are! Oh…you’re applying for graduate status for a commitee member?”
“That would be a yes.”
“Your papers were in the scholarship pile.”
Mentally sighing, “Am I in the right pile now?”