Tuesday, March 16, 2004

My heart fluttered when I read this.

I have wanted grad school for years, but have found every excuse in the world not to apply. This year, I finally was ready to apply, but as is my fashion, by the time I was psychologically and emotionally ready to put myself out there, I realized I had missed the application deadline for every school I was interested in, and several others to boot. I must now wait an additional year to apply.

I'm already working on my portfolio, tinkering around with essays. What scares me the most is that by fall I may talk myself out of applying again. Finances I can face. My own feelings of inadequacy and hopelessness... damn.

For awhile, because of the perfect job (the one I lost 2 years ago), I was hot to trot into an MBA program. I think I may be over that. My humiliating experience with the GMAT certainly helped. I can't escape the feeling that is wasn't the buisness that I loved - it was that company, because of those people. It is gone. They are gone. And everyone who knew that company knows that as the business world goes, it was Shangri-La. I am not exageratting or being depressive by saying that I will never have a job like that again. It's just the truth. No company will ever be like that one was. And if that's the case, there is a real possibility that the corporate stage, for all I've gained from it, is not where I belong.

Several people who know me intimately for years have asked when I'm going to get off my duff and get back to writing. I tell them I already have: mzouiser.blogspot.com. Yuk-yuk-yuk. But I know what they mean. I just have been so uninspired for so long.

But I have been writing again. And lately, the novel I abandoned has been gently knocking on the inside of my skull.

I don't know.

When you refuse a gift, it's very hard to ask for it back.

Like so many other things going on with me these days, I just don't know.

It is true that after working with numbers for 4 years, I will clearly die young if I don't find a way to blend my (talent? passion?) with my income.

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