Sunday, March 28, 2010

Follow the path of least pain?

I've decided that I'm going to try to curtail my desire for hermitage and actually attempt to post regularly in this blog. As a result, there will probably be fewer stories and more thoughts.

I recently submitted a long-winded and probably overly personal question to, about how to go about taking my pre-med courses. I needed some outside opinions; I had over analyzed my situation to the point of going batshit. I got some great responses, and I think maybe more importantly, some reassurance. I think my mantra may be something along the lines of "follow the path of least pain." This is wimpy, but I'm all for attainable goals with the benefit of ultimately enduring.

It seems like since I've had a baby, I've made so many changes. After a perfect and uncomplicated pregnancy, it still seemed like I was giving up everything: school, sleep, breasts, being able to listen to NPR without regularly crying, and at least one arm (I became adept at doing everything with one hand: typing, buttering toast, chopping vegetables, pulling down my pants to use the toilet). I was socially and geographically isolated from all my friends (who had waited to have children, which made me paranoid that things were awkward), but I was never actually alone, due to baby at my side. It became a strange and unusual pleasure to take a shower alone, blow dry my hair, cook a meal with two hands, or go for a run.

My priorities have shifted. I remember initially being so uptight about schools, about names and reputations, unwilling to even consider state schools. When I took a statistics course through SUNY Upstate for $181 a credit, it was this bizarre and empowering revelation. Now that I have to deal with bankrupting my husband in addition to myself, it makes me think twice. Or thrice. Or really, about a hundred times.

I think I'm going to try to take Chemistry I and II over the summer at Binghamton University (state school), and go from there. We'll see how well I can coordinate that with working overnights. It will be a commute -- this is like an hour and a half away from me, but I think it will be okay.

I'll have to think of some way to effectively use all my time stuck in the car. Maybe I can record lectures or something. I used to practice singing in the car, until the day a turkey flew out of NOWHERE into my car and destroyed my windshield. It's possible I may have been distracted, but really, I'm convinced the bird was on a suicide mission.


  1. Hey I'm going to post your question on my blog and link you. I wanted to make sure you didn't mind first though, so let me know.

    Incidentally, in addition to being a singer, mother, and a pre-med, you're also a pretty good writer.

  2. Uh oh. I linked you back!

    And thanks. I'm not really sure how I ended up writing sort of proficiently, but I've always liked mulling in the details of stories. That's a chunk of what fascinates me about health care: all these people and all their situations. Unfortunately, sometimes those situations seem a little more special when I'm writing about them compared to when I'm living them.