When I say I ran into my English teacher today, I do almost mean it in the literal sense. I was biking and he was driving, the corner was rather blind, and we both swerved and braked in emergency avoidance maneuvers. We casually chatted afterwards, but I the pounding heart-rates of both parties precluded the pretenses most people usually observe in polite conversation. I guess I am a bit socially awkward, not really in a debilitating sense, but still an inconvenience I could do without. My mantra is and almost always has been, be yourself. You can turn up the volume and turn down the volume on the traits, characteristics, and actions that make you as the situation dictates, but you should always go with being you. “Me,” as I currently stand, is a little bit awkward. The price of sincerity, I guess.
After my dental applications, I will cross my fingers waiting for an intereview, which I have been informed will most likely occur. In the interview situation, it is simultaneously important to be oneself, to avoid social awkwardness, and to keep the volume on one’s personality to an elevator music level. Be smart. Be appropriately funny. Make polite conversation. Know things about your surroundings. Do this all in the situation where, similar to my experience of almost running into a car, your heart is racing and your thought process is an adrenaline-blurred mush.
The worn out adage goes “practice makes perfect,” so I will do my best. Hearts racing, we dive into the excitingly-blurry future, hoping to surface where we intended. Or at least we’ll say that’s where we meant to go.
I’ve started one or two journal entries here, and then immediately deleted them. I am saying the same thing over and over in a side-long and vague way that leaves me with no satisfaction. When my fingers cease flitting over the keys, the ideas are still in my head, and I’m looking at a couple of paragraphs of junk. To get in the blunt state of mind, I thought I’d list out some things about myself:
I like country music. More than once, I’ve played foosball to “Friends in Low Places” by Garth Brooks, and enjoyed it thoroughly. I like the evolution of country music, too … even the sappy ballads that all sound similar. I don’t listen to country on the radio, for some reason.
I hate hate hate the smell of baby powder. Its cloying sweetness is suffocating: like nails on chalkboard for the nose. If you ever smell a baby and say “gee, smells like baby powder,” you can be 100% sure the baby is not mine.
I collect music and I’m proud of my collection, but I realize there is absolutely nothing special about it. I also realize that there’s really nothing to be proud of. I don’t consider my taste to be particularly mature or discriminating.
I am planning a second solo piano album around two major chord progressions, simply because I like them so much. Perhaps this will get them out of my system and I will move on to other things. Possibly not.
I like Apple computers and computing, but I would not want to have a career in computers.
I like engineering, but I would not want a career in engineering.
I like photography, but I would not want a career in photography.
I like writing, but I would fail in a career in writing.
There, I think the blunt list finally got me to what I wanted to talk about: my career. You see, I really want to be a dentist. I’ve been brainstorming my “why I want to be a dentist” essay for sometime, but I fear that any reasons I give won’t be good enough for these admissions people. I fear that my resume is not extensive enough. I fear my GPA is not good enough. I fear that my application will not be completed early enough. I fear that I will not be able to do what I really want to do. I fear feeling like I have failed at the one thing I really set my mind to. All through high school, I focussed on being the best in academics. My speech came and went, everyone went to college, and I suddenly felt like all the work was for naught. Here, I know that this accomplishment will be different; being accepted into school opens the door to the life I want to lead. Do I want to go to work everyday and fix people’s teeth? Through summers and holidays, years and decades? YES. Yes, I do. I want that because I could help people, not add numbers. I could put my own ladder against my own goal, rather than climb someone else’s ladder, reaching for their standards. I could take off afternoons and see my kids in softball games and dance recitals.
You think I’m getting ahead of myself.
I certainly might be (don’t get me wrong, I’ve got tons of gray area for the details between now and “family time with Alex Micek”), but I’ve always been the type to try to keep all my options open … dentistry does that. I started school hoping to graduate with an EE degree and be prepared for dental school. Similarly, I wish to have a job that is conducive to raising a happy, healthy, loving family. I want to maximize my potential in providing for people who depend on me. Simply put: I want them to be financially secure, and I know I can make that happen. I just don’t know if it will happen.
A month or so ago, I got screwed over by the St. Thomas housing lottery, losing the room I was gunning for, losing the room I was living in, and ended up settling for something else. This depressed me to no end, not because living accomodations are that important to me, but because I (not exactly logically) feared that my inability to fight off the competition and get a room was a portent of an inability to successfully fight for a spot in dental school. It hasn’t helped that the “applying to dental school” seminar I recently attended took the time to point out that last year’s cycle was, according to the director of admissions, “the most competitive I’ve seen in my 25 years here.” A sarcastic “great” does not begin to describe the inner turmoil this stirred up within me.
In the meantime, I’m not enjoying life right now. Everything is on hold until I get my DAT taken (next weekend) and my admissions forms completed (next three weeks). Then, I may start studying for a retake of the DAT. I am in survival mode, and it is a world of frequent depression and simply doing what needs to be done. I go to school, I work out, I eat, I sleep, I work on dental school things. Sometimes, this is what you have to do with your life, and I am OK with the sacrifice. The real depression sets in when I think that all this could result in nothing. December 1 of this year could roll around, my rejection could be sent out, and then I could be at a serious cross roads in my life.
I am stubborn - I don’t want to rise to the challenge of envisioning my life not in dentistry. I want this - perhaps because I am narrow minded or unimaginative or inflexible - but I know I’m going to do my damndest to try to make this happen.