Last night I was trying to remember a time where I thought, “If only I knew then what I know now..” I never have, until last night.
If I was who I am now when I transferred in fall 2011, I wonder if I would still be majoring in biology and heading towards medical school. Back then I wasn’t in the right frame of mind for it. I still don’t study right or well, I don’t have nearly the ambition or motivation I need, and my desire to graduate and get out in the world for a few years is stronger than my wavering desire to be a doctor. Back then, I was doing it to feel good about myself and say I was going to be a doctor to make up for my lack of self-confidence. I was making my choices based on a fear of not looking good to other people. I knew I was, which is why it seemed like a good idea to major in Russian. Now I’m thinking that I could have still gotten a degree in biology, taken the same language classes and ended up in about the same life situation.
I’m just as happy now and I think I’m definitely getting the better deal. Only a few crappy classes instead of a lot more, graduate only a year late, less debt, these classes are easy…I just didn’t know I had more than two or three paths. But this was definitely a good choice and medical school is still an option for me.
Okay, happy as I may be with my choices, I still wonder if I would have been happier if I could have made a choice based on what I know now. When I’m graduating, another year won’t seem like a lot, but when you’re looking at another three years from the time you’re making the decision, it looks like a long time. Well, either way, it’s not like I cut myself off from being a doctor. If I do decide to do that later in life, I think I’ll be better prepared than I was.
Looking back, the whole ordeal of moving out (sort of) and finding enough self-confidence to function in the real world was awful and stressful. Ah, life.
But I feel like I’m mentally independent from my family’s influence.
And my family was giving me crap for my current major. Now, my dad is taking private Russian lessons and told me that I made a good choice.
And speaking of my family…I’m moving in with my parents instead of living on campus (Saving myself $8000 of debt, woo!). My mom said that I have to pick up after myself, keep my room clean, yadda yadda. So I do this anyway because I’m not a pig. She said exactly, in a stern tone, “There’s going to be some rules!” I come over here today, and there’s a dirty pan on the stove, an empty can on the living room floor with dirty silverware on the table, and dirty plates on the counter. And I need the rules? She’s a crazy old woman if she thinks I’m doing any more work around here than my dad does. I really hate the way she babies him, he doesn’t have to clean or do anything for himself, but I do. As my grandma said, it’s easier to tell me what to do than him, because you take care of your husband. (And also because I come after my dad because, I think, she’s afraid he’ll leave her if she doesn’t do everything for him. And I’m sure she’s not ready for me to live with her and be that first person that I’ll go to if I need something.)
So. It should be interesting living here. I came up with some rules of my own, which I think are entirely acceptable: I don’t take out the garbage, don’t leave hair in the soap, don’t eat my food, and if they need to put something in my room, just throw it on the bed so it’s not lost forever. 6 months ago