Inspirational Words, the Brightness of the Future, etc.

Graduation is probably one of the most cliche subjects. However, since even George Orwell broke his own rules as a writer, I'll allow myself to pick at the subject, since it's very much on my mind right now.

The first morning after Commencement, it didn't hit me because the festivities were not yet over. I still had the Baccalaureate Mass and Senior Brunch to attend. The second morning, it didn't hit me because I had to frantically pack so I could turn in my key by noon. The third morning, I was still recovering from the pace of activities, catching up on sleep. But the fourth morning was brutal.

I woke up to my alarm with the bright sun brutally hitting me in the face, in a double occupancy dorm room with a roommate who may or may not have used my shampoo without asking. I was alone. I went to my first physical therapy appointment for my knee injury. My right quad has completely atrophied, somehow a physical manifestation of all that I seem to have lost. As my physical therapist put it, I don't have a good knee. We'll be working on both.

Physical therapy is one of my main projects for the summer. The other is to find a job. Commencement weekend was harsh: everyone was excited, asking me about my future plans. I could only sheepishly shrug and reply that I didn't know. No job, no fellowship, no grad school plans. No bright future, unlike seemingly everyone around me.

I don't want to sound too whiny. I'm not dying. I've never known true adversity or strife. Up until now, I've led quite a charmed life. Why, then, am I lying in bed listening to Dave Matthews Band's "Where Are You Going" on repeat?

I feel lost. Up until now, I have been following a very straight path. The only real decision was where to go to college, and in retrospect that decision should not have been very difficult. No matter what university I chose, I would have had four years to experience college life in one form or another. I'm pretty sure that graduating in four years never would have been a problem, since Georgetown gave me 26 AP credits despite not awarding anything for two 5's. Ah, numbers.

I wish I could say that I've realized how silly numbers are. Instead, I've become all the more obsessed with them. My LSAT score, though not terrible, seems a failure. All conversations about law schools inevitably drift to U.S. News rankings. I thought I could finally be proud of myself for something, for raising my GPA to graduate magna cum laude (obviously Georgetown doesn't round up). Instead, I obsessed over the fact that class rank for the first time was visible on our transcripts. Thoroughly unimpressive, particularly since unlike most people, the size of Georgetown College is more or less EXACTLY comparable to my high school class size.

I'm not really sure what to do with myself. When I first got to Georgetown, I was unhappy, yet I felt pressured to put on a happy face to people back home. Eventually, I found my place at Georgetown and enjoyed my senior year immensely. Now, that world of happiness has been ripped from me. Once again, I feel pressured to put on a brave front. I don't feel brave. I feel discouraged, unimportant, worthless, helpless.

I need to stay positive most of all in my continued job search, but it's awfully hard. I've been trying. Pretty soon, it seems like every law firm and DOJ office in DC will have my resume. I've had my share of interviews, and despite coming quite a long way since my first awkward interview experience to become confident, I've received nothing but bad news. I know that I need to keep my head held high and be persistent and keep going, but I find myself becoming weaker. I also question my decisions. Perhaps I ought to have applied to law school after all; I would have gotten accepted SOMEWHERE, and then I could continue down the straight path I've suddenly veered off of after 22 years.

I also question where I see myself. The plan was to work for two years and then go to law school. That would make me 27 when I graduate. Right now, that seems so old, practically middle aged. I wish I could say that I don't have any regrets about how I've lived my life so far, but that would be a lie. I am absolutely full of regrets, which is why I don't want to waste any time going forward.

Most of all, I wish I had spent more time with my friends and less time with my textbooks, especially since my efforts almost never seemed to affect my grades. While I'm sure that I'll stay in touch as my Georgetown friends scatter to Minnesota by way of Montana, Korea by way of Wyoming, and NYC by way of Boston, it obviously will never be the same. Never again will we be living so close together with so few responsibilities. In theory, I know a lot of people who are staying in DC, but I've never been the type to have a wide social circle. Instead, I had a few close friends, and now that they're gone, I feel empty.

Actually, my atrophied leg muscle is not the most apt metaphor for this time in my life. In time, it will heal, but I will never regain those four years. They are complete. A chapter has ended. Instead, a better metaphor would be a situation I saw the other day. Charlotte and I had just walked Kayleigh to the bus stop to say our final goodbye. We were taking a usual shortcut, across the Village B Courtyard. We noticed university landscapers and at first were unfazed. However, we quickly and horrifyingly realized that they were chopping down the tree that grew in the middle of the path. The tree was unassuming but perfectly healthy. You walked by it every day without really noticing it or appreciating it. It was there. It was an essential part of the Georgetown experience. And, in a matter of seconds, it crashed to the ground. The landscapers posed jauntily when they saw my camera, apparently not noticing my tears. Maybe something much better will eventually take its place, but it was traumatic to see it happen right in front of me.

Dear reader, you may have noticed there's no lesson, no inspirational message. I actually really liked that about Dikembe Mutumbo's graduation speech. At the end of the day, nothing that can be neatly packaged is meaningful. Maybe since my life is a mess I will find meaning soon?