Three years ago, I was about to start classes to obtain my second bachelor's degree. My daughter was about to become a one-year-old. I was planning her birthday gathering (please, no gifts...though no one EVER listens). I was perfecting my flourless chocolate cake recipe. I had purchased some lovely school supplies (Ooh. Bouquets of sharpened pencils....) and backpack (though I would later trade it in for a backpack on wheels, on which my dear daughter would ride to and from our car to her preschool because I couldn't carry her, my backpack, my purse, her sleeping bag, and her lunch no matter how hard I tried).
It's all over. I graduated. My daughter is about to be a four-year-old (HOW does that HAPPEN?). I began and ended a 2+ year relationship. My heart is broken into a thousand pieces and I cannot talk about it without crying. I spent the spring semester subbing in elementary schools. I haven't even gotten an interview, let alone a job. I graduated with a 3.624 GPA, made the Dean's List and the Scholar's List, racked up a load of student loans (which I didn't have the first time around, and if I had actually put some thought into it...I probably would've reconsidered going back to school). All of that for nothing. Wrote an 82-page paper for nothing. Began having panic attacks (which went away after graduation, though was replaced by a four month eye twitch that recently went on hiatus thankfully). And alienated my friends, boyfriend, and child on more than one occasion.
I am sure if I had a job, I would be writing a completely different kind of post. The pain of not having a job outweighs the joy of graduating. The love I have for my ex outweighs the silly arguments we had over things we should have just accepted about each other.
If I could do things differently, I would. But then, I wouldn't be me...would I?