thoughts from chicago

The first part of today’s Admitted Students’ Weekend activities were held on the sixth floor of the Gleacher Center. Even from that level the view of Lake Michigan and the river below is quite breathtaking. As I sat at our table milling over my bagel I started to feel that panic again.

I realized that part of it might be survivor’s guilt. Thoughts of why am I still here kept rushing through my head. Part of me so wanted to be able to call someone in my family and say “hello” from Chicago.

As we were riding the bus over to Hyde Park I wished I were on my cell phone telling my Mom we were on our way to see the campus. That after all those months of waiting and wondering of where we would end up, we were at long last here.

Several times during the afternoon sessions I could feel myself fighting back tears. What could possibly be so sad about study abroad and career placement? It is so hard not having anyone to share this with like on that level.

It didn’t help that as we were walking back from the train to the hotel some weirdo started spouting (at the top of his lungs) how he wanted to kill his mother. “F-her!” he said. Not sure how I didn’t break down right there on Michigan Avenue.

On some level I am not sure how much is too much. Where the limits are. How much I truly can take on. The closest I get to normal is when I do laundry. (And some of you wonder why I have issues.)