I am suffering from acute, and I mean ACUTE senioritis. Or grad student-itis. Whatever you want to call it. I find it very difficult to get even the tiniest bit of motivation to do my homework. All the assignments seem rather the same after awhile. For instance, right now I'm supposed to be writing about a book I read as a child (Just as Long as We're Together by Judy Blume) and my reaction to it now as an adult, which is not an assignment type I've done before, but I really don't want to do it. I just don't. I'll write it out, get a grade slapped on it, and forget about it. I don't think I'm really learning anything anymore in my degree program. I'm just playing the game, getting the grades, and eventually that will all turn into a fancy piece of paper that says I have a Masters.
I admit, I'm somewhat befuddled by some of my teachers, and even my classmates, who are so obsessed with academia. People keep asking me if I'm excited to graduate and have my Masters. Truthfully, the only thing I'm really excited about is the fact that I can be done with school for as long as I please after May (I'll be taking AT LEAST a year off). The Masters doesn't mean a whole lot. It so far hasn't even gotten me terribly far in getting me a decent paying job, so I'm not sure what all the fuss is about.
One big reason I started this blog, aptly titled "Random Thought Corner," (since none of these posts will likely be terribly cohesive) was to see if I could like writing again. I'm getting my Masters in Creative Writing and I feel almost as if the program has ruined it for me. The push to be experimental and different in writing has only lead me to feel completely inept and frustrated that what I like to write is not what people like to read. Wait. Let me take that back. I'm frustrated that what I like to write is not what the elite few who actually read literary journals like to read. So what am I worried about? I'm not sure. I just feel that there is too much on my mind: getting married, finding a place to live, getting a 9-5 easy job, and learning to be the best wife I can be (because that is where I will find any worldly fulfillment that means anything for the Kingdom) that seems so much more pressing than a few essays, a couple Shakespeare plays, and a Masters thesis that will disappear in a poof of smoke as soon as the semester has ended. Sigh.
