Fire and Ice Cream

Graduate school is a strange 3-headed animal with horns and wings that spits fire and chocolate ice cream simultaneously. The 3 heads represent the many things I have to do, all of which have a high level of priority: completing my thesis, performing satisfactorily on my assistantship so that I can afford to pay for my education and livelihood, and getting good enough grades in my classes so that I may avoid the dreaded “meeting” with my advisor and the director of the program that usually occurs before they kick you out. The horns represent the pain in the butt that grad school can be while the wings represent the momentum that it gives you when you’re finally done.

At this point, I am most concerned with the process, or the fire and ice cream metaphor. In life, processes are the most painful: when your body grows, your muscles ache all the time. When your teeth grow in, your mouth hurts. When you move from one home to another, your body and pockets hurt. Graduate school is what I consider the ultimate process. I am definitely growing, there is no doubt about that, but there is literally no rest between stages. It seems like I’m constantly working for what appears to be forever. Here’s the big “BUT.” Every time I complete a hurdle, like I defend my proposal or the Internal Review Board (IRB) accepts my research idea, it’s time to celebrate! Scoops of chocolate ice cream for everybody.

I love those small victories among the pandemonium. They remind me that I am here for a reason. And honestly, if I were not in graduate school, I’d always be wishing that I went. Hey, time is going to pass whether I’m doing something with that time or not. For this 5 years, I choose to dance with the 3-headed monster.