On moving, serial contingency planning, and uncertainty

Today’s inane image of the day:

My lab notebook. I’ve never been a fan of these “Composition Books,” because they always seem to fall apart on me. 
 
It’s incredible how you accumulate so much stuff in such a short period of time. I moved to Ann Arbor in September 2008 and in only 3 years, I think I might have more stuff stored in my tiny studio than I can fit into my car. Then again, I could just be terrible at packing…




Another thing that makes this whole process like 5 times more frustrating is that the Ann Arbor Art Fair is preventing me from pulling my car up to the front of my apartment to load it up. Sure, I’m not actually moving out until tomorrow, but I’d like to make it easier on myself by splitting my trips up. Bah!
Oh and the insufferable heat is TOTALLY not helping the situation [I guess I shouldn’t complain since I have AC at my apartment…].
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I always looked forward to having lunch with my co-workers primarily because our conversations touched upon a spectrum of topics. It was an unsaid rule that we would not talk about work, especially since we only had a precious 30 minutes to consume a meal, soak up the sun and talk about the latest news.

During my “going away” lunch, someone noted that I seemed to have a contingency plan for everything — even things that are unlikely to happen. I probably should just live life in the present and only consider possibilities for the future… but instead, I mentally chart out a plan of action, then come up with some pretty well-thought out backup plans — just in case. Maybe I should have more faith in myself and just believe that things will work out for the best, but I always feel like I’m gripped in a state of fear and “what if” scenarios.

The best example of my serial contingency planning is when I was stuck in waitlist limbo. By the time I had begun the application cycle, I was unconvinced that I would be successful because of a slew of failed attempts to gain transfer admission to several colleges/universities, a fellowship opportunity and the Fulbright ETA grant program. With that particular track record, it seemed unlikely that I was “good enough” for medical school, so I came up with a number of backup plans.

I wonder what it would feel like to just sit back, relax and live in the moment; sometimes I feel paralyzed because I cannot get my mind to move on from what will be or could be.

This mentality has been driving a stake in my relationship — while we agreed to stay together despite the 1000+ miles and the uncertainty in time it will take him to complete his doctoral program, I have my doubts. I am anxious about the unknown time that we’ll be separated from one another. I am depressed that I will not have my rock to lean on when medical school overwhelms me.

Gah! Uncertainty is such a pain in the butt.

2 thoughts on “On moving, serial contingency planning, and uncertainty

  • July 24, 2011 at 2:43 am
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    Fundamental Lemma of Life: “Uncertainty is such a pain in the butt.”

    Fundamental Theorem of Life: “Change sucks.”

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