I guess it has. When you let the exams drag you around by your collar and have you flopping like a Raggedy Ann doll, time just seems to fly. But it’s okay now, I am bruised, I am aching and words like government, public policy, Iraq, democracy seem to be be dangling in front of my eyes every time I open it. But I am okay. I have learnt to look at the trees in the forest individually and found out ways in which I can tune them out too when necessary. I should have known this was going to happen. More so because the first thing that the prof warned about in his first class on the first day was “I promise you I will make you insane by the time you finish this course an I also promise you that you will start enjoying the insanity” And if he is an example to what happens to people passionate about this field, than let the good lord save you folks.
I have a folder full of papers waiting to be examined, written about, a computer full of documents waiting to be finished and yet i don’t want to do anything for the next few minutes. I want to just talk without making sense ( which should be easy), not be coherent, cohesive and concise, and not have to worry about citations and definitions. Is it possible to become frustrated and feel as if you are sinking into monotony even when you are doing something you absolutely adore. I mean, I know the feeling of becoming automated, but I always presumed that it would happen only when I am not into what I am doing. I enjoy what I am in now, I crave for the time when I go sit in a class of people wanting almost the same things. And yet there are these moments when I feel irritated by drafting and redrafting and re-re drafting a stupid paper. Is that alright. I am not sure what the people who read my blogs and comment on them do for a living or if they are in fields that they have dreamt of and are loving their jobs, but the question is “Is it okay to feel trapped by the routine of everyday life , even when you wake up every morning to what you wanted to always do?’
On lighter notes, my best friend is pregnant and I am thrilled to bits about it. I was the bridesmaid at her wedding and jumped with joy when I heard the news yesterday. YEY!!! We met in 1999. I was a rebel and she the saint and we didn’t really talk much or know much about each other except for the fact that I used to call her St. L and she used to call me well rebel. We hit it off when we in a funny twist of fate landed in the same class in college. Never realised the rebel and the saint could have so many things in common and here we are. Seems like yesterday when we were dashing up the stairs with test tubes, microbes and record books, making the driver wait the bus stop an extra five mins so the other could catch up, dancing to”Euphoria”, gobbling tomato rice, begging her mother to make plum cake, talking late at night about Pasteur, Koch and the prof dating a student. she giggling and me grimacing at the cute guy who liked her in college, getting down from the bus and waving till she was out of sight……. it has really been that long.