They say things never happen the same way twice. I’m afraid there’s a little detail missing on that statement.
Good things never happen the same way twice. Other things, usually bad ones, recur as surely as one needs to eat, or defecate; it happens either regular or often, depending on the circumstances.
I’m talking about how I see my eventual commencement last August. The whole process leading to it (the thesis-writing, the panic, and mostly the “I-just-want-to-get-this-over-with” attitude) are just eerily similar to what happened four years ago leading to my premature Bachelor’s graduation. The only thing that keeps me going was that I want to be rid off of that twenty-thousand-word responsibility and just close another chapter of my life; not to be bothered any longer by the question of why I begin it on the first place.
Another cause of my annoyance lies on the fact that in both events, employment didn’t follow suit as timely as objectively expected. According to the nifty visual I created above–doubtlessly unscientifically proven–I’m currently on the Loop. It drives me nuts not only because of my concerns for the financial implication to the family, but also that it really is not helpful to my already deranged self-esteem. Actually, I don’t even know if I had any left in my disposal.
All the more irritating is how people would just shrug off my concerns as nonsense. They’d say things like how being a bilingual, graduate from two top universities and whatnot will most definitely guarantee a job on your doorstep. No, it doesn’t. In fact, it makes me under-qualified to some group of jobs and over-qualified for the other, that they just hire an undergrad instead. See, it is exactly the qualification that’s a problem, so why would I rely on it? Either way, it doesn’t matter. The fact stands still that I am an unemployed bum, and already have been for three straight months.
And I am not allowed to be paranoid on being jobless still by the next year? Gimme a break. This was exactly what happened four years ago. And where did it lead me to? A freaking loop called gradschool.
This made me somewhat convinced that I am not built for optimism in any circumstance, and I know this trait is frustrating for anyone to be around me all the time.
Now I am even more convinced I am built for a solitary life. Not that I mind it.
My point is that I am sick of feeling constantly and helplessly miserable, but I don’t think I am in any way capable of being hopeful. But would it help? Tangibly?
If being positive presumably leads to good things, which do not happen the same way twice as a rule, is there any point of thinking somehow anything would always be fine regardless?