This morning Kelly the little turtle poked her head out of her shell and looked around.
And then she pulled her head back inside her shell and went back to sleep for several hours, but that's not the point.
The point is, there's a world out there and it is terrible and wonderful and horrifying and beautiful all at the same time. And I know this. And even these setbacks have a silver lining. I'm learning who my friends are, who I can count on, who'd be better off pushed off a cliff... oh look, my sarcasm is intact.
I am living again, and I will love again and trust again and hopefully eventually have amazingly good sex. Yes, I am still very sad and hurt, and man, I still love him and pray that we could work things out, but I am prepared for the fact that that is probably not going to happen. But that doesn't change who I am.
Do I have regrets? Of course. But they don't change who I am. A little sadder, hopefully a little wiser, but still the Kellinator.
I need a makeover. A sexy makeover.
Today I went to a meeting with the prof I'm supposed to TA for this semester in a modern drama class. He started the meeting by announcing that we had too many TAs for the class and someone was going to need to go, and did anyone else have another interest they wanted to pursue?
I timidly admitted that Shakespeare has my heart and I'd love to TA the Shakespeare course that the prof I TAed for last semester is teaching. Of course I admitted I wasn't sure if it was kosher to work with the same prof both semesters.
So the prof immediately starts talking about how that would be great... for G. G is the golden girl of the department who just decided that she didn't want to be a modernist and is switching to the Renaissance -- my area. Which I had all to myself except for about three older students who are already done with coursework.
I already totally irrationally felt that G was (unintentionally, of course) horning in on my territory, because who's going to care what I'm doing if the Golden Girl is doing something better and more original and more grad-school appropriate (because she likes theory bullshit) in the same area? Now I felt like the prof was deferring to her, taking my great idea and giving it to her. My face fell.
Immediately after the meeting, I burst into tears to Lillie in the computer lab.
Lillie eventually talked me down, convincing me that actually it was more of a slight to G because the prof was cutting her out of the class (probably because she hadn't shown up for the first class yesterday). But I still feel crummy -- and now I'm wondering how truly paranoid I really am.
I've got to get out of grad school.
I'm down to twenty bucks in my checking account and thirty bucks in my savings account.
No wonder I'm contemplating becoming a shooter girl.