One of the reasons I stopped posting was that I had little to say aside from “IhopeIpasstheseexams." Seriously, I’ve lived and breathed virtually nothing but the exams since I came back to Philadelphia in January. (In fact, thanks to my habit of keeping track of my hours for our accountability group on Google Docs, I can say that since the last week of January I logged 430 hours on exam prep. Jesus!) But I passed! I did more than that, actually; I fucking rocked those exams. Sixteen hours and 55 pages later, my adviser said my broad field answers each seemed like articles in themselves, and all of my examiners called my special field exams a pleasure to read because they were not only insightful but well-written (as I said to them, imagine what they could have been if I hadn’t been typing to save my life). Even my orals were pretty freaking awesome (which I fully attribute to my habit of practicing answers by making myself talk them out out loud).
This might seem like bragging until you contrast it against the completely awful, gut-wrenching fear and anxiety that I experienced before and during the exams. I’ve never felt so much stress, angst, and general unhappiness in my entire freaking life. It was bad enough, if within relatively normal levels, going into the broad field, but most people are then much more relaxed going into the special field after they’ve passed the first. Me? I had my first ever legitimate anxiety attack only hours after Dr. Cooper had called to glowingly compliment me on the broad field. She was concerned that I shouldn’t get a big head about having done so well, and meanwhile hours later I’m sending her a panicked email about how I was certain that I would fail the special! It was my own fault: I’d only left three days between the written exams, and then had focused too much on preparing for the broad field, so when I looked at the questions that I’d proposed for the special field, I realized I could barely answer three of them. I almost lost it. And I was certain that they’d ask me precisely those questions, too, since on the broad field I’d gotten several questions that I didn’t want to answer and one that I actually couldn’t, because I’d mentally filed it away as “eh, they won’t ask me that, that’s stupid.” Wrong--and good thing I prepared an answer for that one later, too, because then they asked it at the orals! Anyway, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday of last week were probably three of the worst days of my life so far, and this is coming from the orphan, so no joke. I actually felt sick to my stomach with fear all the time, woke up in the middle of night with my brain trying to answer questions, and generally expected humiliating failure at every turn. And then came the very sweetest moment of all, when the department secretary handed me the special field questions, I looked down, and I realized I can answer these, muthafucka!!
Thus was the tale of my triumph! Now it’s time to move out of Philadelphia: I spent all yesterday packing, with the result that everything except for clothes is basically ready to go in boxes. Sean’s coming in on Friday and he’ll drive a truck to CT on Saturday, and then I’ll follow Monday. My goodbye dinner with my friends is on Sunday night. I’m going to miss them, and the life I’ve made here for myself. Even though I’m happy to look forward to living with Sean at last, it can’t help but be bittersweet.