Leaving the nest

It’s again, 2am in the morning as I go about my unhealthy cycle of studying overnight for a class that I’m not sure if I fully understand. Developing economics is complicated enough with multiple factors affecting growth and divergence of economies, it does not need to be further complicated with unclear literature that seemingly proves causality between social infrastructure and income but breaks down when history is used as an instrumental variable? I think I understand from my previous phrasing but oh-so-much could go wrong tomorrow – scratch that – today because this exam is totally up in the air with regards to what might be tested. Imagine the most vague instructions, from the delivery of material to announcement of the test structure. What am I in for?

In other news, I really need to get on with my MAcc applications. It’s getting closer and closer to the deadline and I’m so not close to finishing any of it. Erm, blame it on my mid-term per week + hw? I honestly don’t know where my priorities should lie. They are all important, but I feel so unhappy doing all of it. It might be this time of the year too, when I once again, experience the effects of vitamin D deficiency aka no Sun. Socially speaking, I’m dead tired of talking about academics, but that seems to be the only social interaction I’m getting – when people need to complete their homework. Hey – at least they think I’m intellectually capable enough to actually discuss problems with me, unlike my parents who think I’d have to study everything at least twice before I can perform well in it. Okay, now I’m just bitter because my childhood memory of never being good enough comes back and haunts me.

That leads me to my next point – taking flight from home. My family has officially moved. The wall paints were coming off and the ceiling was dripping. The shower in the kitchen hadn’t been working for a couple of years and the kitchen cabinets had either lost their handles or their doors altogether. The toilet flush worked on and off. Trust me, it’s time. This whole move had been very stressful on my family, which I understand. It was 12 years of accumulated things they had to sort through, tight budget constraint financed by borrowing, trading for a more comfortable home. This comment was made in passing, and I probably shouldn’t have given too much thought to it, but I can’t forget it either. The gist was that they didn’t want my stuff in their (new) apartment and the things I decide to keep, I’ll have to move to my home. But, my home is where they are. I’m sure they didn’t mean for it to sound as harsh as it did, but it makes me so sad even thinking about it. I might as well have left physically, but my heart hasn’t caught up. It hasn’t detached into me & them. It’s so saddening. What if I remain single forever? What if it becomes just me going back to my empty apartment in NYC everyday, slaving my life away? Where is the joy in doing things if you can’t share it with the people you love? Honestly though, even food tastes better when there is company. Recently, I read a NYT op-ed about this man being one of the countless old people in NYC who die alone and it was utterly depressing. I couldn’t help but think that it could be me someday – that no one would find my body until it reeked of decay.

Graduation crisis becoming real yo. If the move was symbolic in any way, it’s subtly telling me it’s time I go my own way. How is high school musical 10 years old already? It felt like I was obsessed with it just yesterday. Can I stubbornly stay in the nest please?

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