Graduate Hell

I like to say that I am a former graduate student. The reality is that I'm something a little more ephemeral and ridiculous than that.

I am a non-degreed, non-graduated graduate student who is not enrolled as a student and hasn't been for over a year and has satisfied all requirements except the one of turning in copies of her m$#%^&%#@!#$ thesis who just missed the deadline for December graduation this year today.



And what the hell is that? Riddle me that Batman and you win a prize.

A month ago the news that I missed the deadline-again would have enraged me.

Now. . . not so much. The most I can muster is a "eh . . . whatever." I don't care anymore. I don't care because I have decided that graduate school for me has primarily been a very drawn out, very painful, very expensive mistake. It was a labor of love. It was a period of growth. It was thought provoking and awe-inspiring. It was all the things it was supposed to be--but it wasn't worth what it cost.

If we were just talking money here--and student loan money at that which is all hypothetical anyway--it wouldn't be so bad. But graduate school cost way more than that. It took time, energy, and spirit when, in hindsight, those things could have been better focused elsewhere.

As I texted my friend in the struggle, "I know when I've been had."

So I'll just suck it up, fork over more cash, and get it done. I'll have that degree next year--for whatever it's worth.