I’m staring at a pile of papers, books, diagnostic tests, and work. This is what happens when you let yourself forget for one second that you’re in grad school. (Ok, maybe it was more like two days..) But it was worth it.
I would rather enjoy my time here, live it up (if you will) than decline an invitation simply because I don’t want my work to wait. It’s not going anywhere. My homework is not a new pet that requires constant attention and regular feedings. Two days of fun in exchange for a few compressed hours of work on a Sunday? That’s a trade I’m willing to make.
It all started with diagnostics.
I had the honor of participating in my very first diagnostic session on Friday. All the planning and all the stress leading up to this session flew out the window the second I saw this client. Suddenly, I had the opportunity to spend three hours with the most precious 3 ½ year old I’ve seen in weeks. It hit me immediately that I miss my little monsters back in West Chester. Despite a rocky start, we made it through. We got almost everything on our list checked off (including a super sneaky oral peripheral exam) and had a blast doing it.
Of course, this success meant a celebration was in order.
Now, I’m not a party animal by any means, but that doesn’t mean I’m a stranger to the bars either. That being said, I seem to have forgotten what it’s like to go out and not have the blanket of not understanding sign language to hide under. The ability to communicate with every person I saw was almost as overwhelming and unexpected as my first experience to the contrary. Dancing, shots, dancing, drinks, and more dancing.. we finally made it home at some ungodly hour that I don’t care to think about.
A mere seven hours later, I was alive, alert, awake, and on my way to the grocery store. Let it never be said that I am not one to stick to my plans. Groceries bought, hangover averted, we made our way over to my first ever tailgate. Granted, it was a few tables, some ladderball, and a couple cases of beer on a tennis court at 11 AM, but I like to think it still counts. We had the perfect view to watch the game (which Gallaudet dominated, thank ya very much) and flip cup, so all was well in the world.
After taking stock of our leftover tailgate supplies, we quickly discovered that there was too much to save until next week. Has anyone ever had the problem of “too much beer” before? My first ever tailgate turned into the first party the little red rowhouse has seen since we moved in. And an overabundance of beer and snacks turned into a sole survivor:
Now, as I stare down the pile of papers, books, diagnostic tests, and work (cup of coffee in hand), I find myself more happy than overwhelmed. Yeah, there’s a long day ahead of me. Yeah, the week will be tiring and full of stressful events. I have to accept these facts. I made my bed and now I have to lie in it. But gosh darn if I didn’t have a blast making that bed.