i've always hated "what-if" scenarios because there's never a good way to answer

I love my university, I really do. I love everything about it. I love my classes, I love my majors, I love my friends, I love the Marching Hundred, and I love being an RA. 

More and more, however, I am questioning whether this is where I belong. 

My sleep schedule has been off for at least a month, probably more. I stay awake at night because I can’t sleep, and then I can’t drag myself out of bed during the day. I am suffering what I think might be best described as an existential crisis. 

I don’t know what I’m doing with my life, I don’t know what I want to do with my life, and I have no idea why I’m doing any of the things I’m doing. I don’t know if I have any sort of future in what I’ve chosen to study at IU; and I can’t help but ask myself why I’m paying a university thousands of dollars per year when there are kids in other countries who can’t even afford a meal. I’m not so sure anymore that college is the place for me. I’m not so sure that society is the place for me. 

Come to think of it, I know society is not the place for me- in the world, not of it. 

So what am I doing? Why am I here and not somewhere like Africa, or Papua New Guinea, or China, or South America, doing something to help? Or why am I here and not somewhere on the road? Why am I here and not in New York? What am I doing? What do I really think I’m doing here? I’m tired, and I’m jaded, and I need something new, something fresh and invigorating, I need to help, I need to do some good in this world. Instead of sitting in class listening to lectures about the greats- Kerouac, Ginsberg, Wilde, Stanislavski- I need to get out there and be great. Instead of thinking about everything I could be, should be doing, I need to get out there and actually do it. 

There’s something else out there, something better, and I need it. I can feel it in the distance like a half-remembered dream fragment, I can sense it in the air just waiting for me to taste it, I can hear it in the mountains like the echo of a thunderclap…but I can’t quite see it and I don’t know what it is. I don’t know, I just don’t know. And I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. At this point, I don’t even know what I want to do. I feel a little like I’ve given up, I feel a lot like I’m in a cage; and I’m screaming and fighting it from the inside out but all my attempts to escape go unnoticed and make no difference. 

I need OUT.

to my girls

To my beautiful residents,

I feel so blessed to have had the opportunity to get to know you (all 61 of you!) this semester.

I know the adjustment to college life is difficult; it's been a transition for me as well. When I received the email last April telling me I was hired, I was absolutely terrified- thrilled, yes, but terrified. There are no words to adequately describe what it feels like to know there are 1500 people depending on you- for security, for safety, for comfort. When I moved in for training in early August and began to learn what my job was going to entail, I was entirely unprepared. I am by no stretch of the imagination unqualified- every RA on campus is hand-selected following a rigorous application process- but there's not really any way to be prepared for what this job brings. You learn as you go...and you, my beautiful and incredible residents, have taught me so much. With all that is in me, I love you dearly- every single one of you. Never forget or doubt that, even for a second. You are why I am here, and you are what makes this job worthwhile.

Sometimes, you girls drive me crazy. Sometimes I want to give up and go home. Sometimes I go to the bathroom to take a shower where there are clumps of hair everywhere, and I think to myself, "I should have gotten an apartment this year." Sometimes I'm up until four in the morning going on rounds and handling incidents. Sometimes I am awakened by the unforgiving keening of my telephone in the middle of the night because someone is locked out of the building. Sometimes I go online and I have ten emails about quiet hours violations, and I can't understand why it's still such a problem. Sometimes, I really think I must have lost my mind the day I decided taking this job was a good idea.

However, "sometimes" is not "most of the time." More often than not, I am incredibly grateful for this job and for you ladies. My life is so much better because you are in it. I am so blessed to have been able to watch you grow into independent, beautiful, kind young women. I can only hope you are able to understand how much that means to me. I love seeing you and spending time with you; I love listening to your funny stories, your stresses, your joys, and your sorrows. I love hearing about what's going on in your lives. I hope you can tell that this "job" will never be "just a job" to me. Cue the corniness, but it's really a lifestyle. At the end of the day, even when I'm overwhelmed- those days when I have a seven-page paper to write, two exams the next day, a two-hundred-page book to read, a bulletin board to do, programs to plan, reports to fill out, desk shifts to work, evaluations to write, recommendations to send, and four different meetings all scheduled for the same time- even at the end of all of that, you are why I am here and you make it worth all the time, effort, and stress. I am a much better person for your presence in my life.

I love you so much. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart and with all that I have, for giving me an amazing semester. Have a wonderful winter break; I'll miss you and I can't wait to see my lovely Landes 2 ladies again in the new year.

Always,
Elizabeth
 

[please]

I can't do this.


I need help.

THANKSgiving!

I arrived home yesterday, Wednesday, for Thanksgiving break. I'm leaving tomorrow, Friday, to return to Bloomington to play with the Marching Hundred at the IU/Purdue game Saturday. While I am sad I only had a couple days at home, I am so very grateful to have been able to spend Thanksgiving with my parents, my brothers, and my future sister-in-law. I've found I appreciate them more and more every time I come home. My family is such a gift to me, and I couldn't ask for more. I love them so much, and I can already tell I'll be homesick again once I'm back in Bloomington.

For now, however, I have a full tummy, I am warm in my own bedroom, I am surrounded by the people I love, and I am utterly contented. Praise JESUS for such blessings!! Happy Thanksgiving!

When It Rains, It Pours

On Thursday, I spent some six hours studying for my psychology exam before allowing myself some relaxation. I then studied some more between the hours of 1 and 3am. I woke up at 6:30am to study some more prior to my exam at 8am on Friday.

It is currently 4:30 in the morning on Saturday. I have been awake for 22  hours on only 3 hours of sleep.
Nick and I hit the trifecta of incidents tonight. We got to write a three-page, one-thousand-word report for one of them. I think we should win an award. 

What a night.
When it rains, it pours.
That is all.

things that make an RA want to cry

You know what? I'm done. I'm just done. It's late, I'm cranky, a boy I used to be friends with passed away earlier this week, and I just don't wanna deal with anything right now. I'm done. I wash my hands of this, I'm going to sleep.

It's not my job for everyone to like me. It's my job to do my job
This job is hard. It's time-consuming, I don't get enough sleep, I don't have time to breathe, I'm stressed out all the time, and I feel entirely too under-appreciated. Every night on rounds I overhear someone on some floor saying something derogatory about the RAs. You know what? Try your life without RAs and see what happens. I work my butt off at this job so that the some 2000 residents who live here can be safe, and happy, and healthy, and have things to do. I sacrifice my sleep, my health, my time, my social life, and you know what, sometimes even my grades and my sanity, for this job. I don't have to do this. I do it because I want to. And you know what, sometimes I forget why. Sometimes I'm tired and cranky and stressed and behind in all my classes and all my RA work and short on sleep and exhausted and drained and overwhelmed and overworked and a friend of mine commits suicide and I can't remember why I signed up to do this job in the first place. Maybe just the *tiniest* shred of respect or appreciation would be nice.

You know what? I'm a person, too. I'm a third year undergrad with senior standing. I'm double majoring and double minoring, and I'm going to have stay over an extra year because I have way too much on my plate but I'm pretty sure my scholarship and loans will run out after my fourth year, and I have no idea how I'm going to be able to pay off my loans because hey guess what, I decided I wanted to be an actress and major in theatre and I'm probably going to move to New York and live in a crappy run-down apartment living off of leftover take-out and Easy Mac and wait tables whilst attempting to break into the business. I like the color purple, I hate oranges, there's only a handful of shades of green that I can stand, I like coffee, I have asthma, my mom works in a hospital and my dad at a steel mill, I have an older brother and a younger brother, and I miss my family terribly, my best friend and I met playing Lite Brite in preschool, I was born six weeks premature, I play a whole bunch of instruments because I love it, I'm afraid of the dark, of being alone, of tornadoes, and hospitals, I'm almost always sick, I have a psychological disorder that I manage without medication because I don't like the medication, I've been dyeing my hair since I was seventeen, I love shoes, I kind of want to join the Peace Corps, I like watching movies, I've recently become obsessed with the show Lie to Me, I don't like being mean, I am terrified for where the rest of my life is going to take me, and I have unwavering faith in the existence of God and the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

I'm a real person, I promise. So when you look at me, don't just look at me and see my walkie-talkie and my nametag. I am not just "RA" or "Landes 2." My name is Elizabeth, and I'm a person, and I'm working hard at school and at this job because I want to. For just two seconds, can everyone understand that? Please? Because I'm about to cry with everything coming in at me from all sides all at the same time. I want to go home. I want to lay in my mom's bed and watch Chelsea Lately with her and get a hug and a home-cooked meal and a shower without shoes and to not have to be responsible for 2000 other people. I love this job, but sometimes I can't remember why. I love this job, but right now it's killing me. I need a minute to breathe. I can't breathe.

Wait, what? Controversy is Okay?

So, I've been doing some passive programming on the floor this week, and someone is NOT happy about it. Some of my posters have been turned over, moved, or taken down, and today someone actually posted a sign right next to one of mine proclaiming "Stop passive aggressive posters!"

I think I'll leave it there.

See, at first I was kind of upset. I spent a lot of time and thought on this program and how to get certain points across, and it made me sad that someone didn't appreciate the work I did or that they were misinterpreting my intentions.

But THEN I realized that if someone is bothered enough to say something about passive-aggressive posters in an ironic passive-aggressive poster- MY PROGRAM IS WORKING. They're THINKING about what I'm asking them to think about.

I did write a small note on the bottom of their poster asking them to come talk to me if they have a problem, and added a similar note in one of my email updates to the floor...but for the most part, I think I'm probably going to let this mystery person post their responses, if there are more to come. I think part of my job is to make people consider those uncomfortable topics, to stir up a little heated debate and controversy. I'm an educator, and that's part of being educated.

And also, it's not my job to make everyone agree with me/like/be my friend. I mean, there's 60 of them. It's just statistically impossible for all of them to like me. 
However, it IS my job to challenge them, to teach them, to give them resources and a safe, healthy environment to live in.

And, hey, if educating and challenging them means ruffling a few feathers, I'm okay with that. The important thing is that the signs are doing what I wanted them to do: they're making my girls THINK. And I can't be too mad about that.

(: