Oh, friends. I know it’s been awhile since I posted. As always, life happens and I find myself procrastinating on posting for days upon days until suddenly weeks past and I just pretend that no time has passed at all when actually it’s been three months. Thanks to everyone who was still reading, commenting, and emailing me (postcollegiateblog at gmail, if you’re interested) and I hope to be more committed to this blog as the summer melts into fall.
When you’re growing up, late August/early September is always the back of school time of year. Being the kind of kid who hating playing outdoors and loved the feeling of freshly sharpened pencils in her hand, I loved the back to school rush. Picking out new supplies, seeing old friends, and the feeling of temperatures dropping below 90 degrees was always a welcomed feeling for me.
After college, the back to school feeling became something different – it became the “going back to school” feeling. Every fall since I graduated in 2007, friends have announced their intentions to attend medical school or law school or graduate school or air conditioning repair school. Going back to school has become everyone’s fall back plan and as you probably know, earlier this year, it became mine. This past spring, I applied to Expensive DC University’s Business School. I submitted my application just days after being laid off, wished on a bottle of beer, and hoped for the best.
And I got in! With a scholarship! And there was much rejoicing. Until I realized how much this little excursion back to school was going to cost me. Even with the scholarship (and extra money cajoled out of the department, because I am supremely gifted at manipulating funds), I’d be looking at taking on a loan debt that just felt outrageous. It would triple my current debt, limit my ability to make money with my new career (more to come on that!), and would drain my savings. After a few days of reveling in my acceptance and cursing my ancestors for never leaving me a hefty inheritance to cover my educational needs, I had to say no.
That was six weeks ago. It hadn’t really started to bug me until now. Scrolling through Facebook, I see the announcements of various acquaintances getting excited about going back to school and their various graduate school acceptances, and I feel a sickening sense of envy. I could be stocking up on school supplies, scoping out hot professors online and preparing “I’m so tired of studying” tweets but instead, I’m staring down a fall surprising similar to every other fall I’ve faced for the last five years. I think the thing that’s really getting under my skin is that if this business school acceptance had come to me when I was 22 or 23, I would have said yes in a heartbeat – financial responsibility and loan burden be damned.
I’m proud that I’m being more financially responsible but it worries me that I’m losing that aspect of my personality where I was willing to take big risks. I’m not as naive as I used to be and I worry that perhaps with the little wisdom I’ve attained in my post-college years, I’ve lost my sense of risk and adventure. Maybe I should have jumped into this opportunity and worried about the money later. Or maybe I made the right choice in keeping my nose to the grindstone to work as much as possible and pay down my current school debt.
Or maybe I’m just obsessing because I feel rudderless during a time of year when someone else used to hand me a schedule for the next eight months and tell me exactly what to expect.