Its roughly halfway into my first semester in graduate school. Assignments, exams and submission deadlines are in full steam and so are my regrets. if-only -I -had –done-so- phrases seem to be prefixed before every other sentence that I utter. Tough times have also incorporated my life apart from studies too, such that my relations with those who have everyday dealings with me are at their lowest ebb, now that this is the nth time we’ve had a tense, but quiet faceoff. Its obvious the stress of studies has spilled over and affected the way I deal with people around me, and negatively at that. It may be uneasy peace, but I now seem to prefer to spend as much time as possible all by myself, even if it means I have to starve, just so that I avoid contact with the world that now appears just too mean, competitive and selfish for me to handle.
On some introspection, it is unmistakable the root origins and responsibility for all these troubles lie in none but myself. There is hardly a shred of doubt that the much vauched for miracle change in myself I had hoped for hasn’t happened. I procrastinate just as I used to before, and trying to finish a one-week assignment in a few hours before the submission deadline is not the miracle change in me that I had hoped for. Just that the stakes are much higher now, given the significant investments of time, money and hope of a much better future. It is amazing how I have so much work to do and yet manage to carve out so much time to waste. Add a bucket of homesickness to this stress by procrastination, along with a couple of pinches of pure bad luck, uncooperative people and the satanic ones’, the resulting mixture is what I am dealing with now. Reminding myself of my days of glory when everything was going right, and more importantly, when I wasn’t procrastinating, is what I am using now as injections of confidence and positive thought.
Signing off with prayers and hope for better weeks ahead.