Paris Stops The Crying

There’s nothing like planning a trip to Paris to stop you from crying uncontrollably.

As any university student (or anyone really) can understand, sometimes there’s just too much to do and not enough time. I know I only have four classes a week and it’s only Creative Writing and I’m lucky enough to be all the way in England so I really shouldn’t be complaining, but I had a small meltdown yesterday. Honestly, I’m not too sure about sharing it publicly because it’s kind of embarrassing, but I figured there had to be someone out there who needs to know they’re not alone.

I pride myself in my ability to stay calm in any situation, to think logically when everyone else panics, take everything in stride, and adapt to practically anything. I can handle myself, as I did on my first trip to university. So I was surprised when yesterday, out of nowhere and very inconveniently timed, I started crying. I couldn’t stop for a good few minutes either.

Let me update you on what happened.

It was a beautiful day. I woke up early even though I don’t have classes on Fridays and went to the career centre where I talked with an advisor about how I have no fucking clue what I’ll do after university. I want to be a writer, but there’s no way I’ll be able to support myself writing books, and I don’t know what else there is that I want to do for a living.

After talking with the advisor, I came to the conclusion that I was even more screwed than I thought. This was the mindset I was it when I ran into a friend and we started talking. I told her what I had planned this week, and realized I had a hell of a lot to do and no time to do it. She told me I looked ready to break and I should take some time out. I laughed, joked about going to my room and crying, and then had to leave so I wouldn’t be late for something else. Then I actually did go to my room and start crying.

As my dad said in so many words, sometimes a lot of little things can build up until they become so big they gain sentience and  turn on you and kill you and take on your identity and take over your life with no one the wiser. Okay, he didn’t say that exactly, but he said the part about a bunch of little things. Like a million paper cuts that sting and hurt and make it difficult to move, instead of just breaking an arm or something.

Anyway, I was crying in my room, and kept trying to make myself stop with mental pep-talks because I was going to be late for a meeting with a friend, but it didn’t work. I let it out for a solid five minutes, and eventually my pep-talks took effect and I went to town to meet my friend for coffee. We were planning out a two-week long end-of-semester celebration in Paris. Sounds great, doesn’t it? I’ve been going to school in England for over a year and a half, I think it’s about time I checked out some more of Europe. Amongst the lists of things to prepare, prices, and places to visit, I forgot about my lack of a future after university. I didn’t feel particularly bad the rest of the day.

But now I’m thinking about my future again. You know what? After I graduate, I think I’ll just do what I do best and play it by ear. We’ll see what happens.