September started with occasional absences, riddled with rains and suspended classes, so I turn to my stars and tell myself this just isn’t my month. It started with a late thesis proposal, which is semi-complete save for the bio-data part, and then suddenly the whole thing feels so… incomplete.
I look back and wonder at my accomplishments, and in CVs some people assume that the longer, the better. Now come to think of it Jet said nobody brags about high school anymore. I’d hate him for it, if only because I was a better student in high school than I was in college. Spelling Bees, Essay Writing Contests, Bulprisa awards… Do these things never really matter?
I have always believed that you need not indicate stuff which would have no bearing in the job you’re applying for. When I applied for a job two years ago, my CV was a page short, double spaced. I did not include the insignificant honors I’ve received, not even the organizations I’ve founded and joined. Do I count medical missions, organizing benefit-music parties, and outreach programs? No.
Which is ironical.
Of all the countless quests and missions I’ve undertaken and completed in the numerous games I’ve played, of the games I’ve finished, of the quests and jobs I’ve mastered… it seems inversely proportional to what I have achieved in real life – at least those things which people like Jet like to measure.
I’m happy and so far content, and I’ve always felt that important. It’s just that now, as I scribble my CV at the end of my thesis proposal, I don’t know what matters anymore.
My academic life is barely breathing. Here I have my parents impatiently waiting for me to graduate, as it is, so they say, the be all and end all of their parental role; here I have Jet heckling and pressuring me, as if our lives depend on this piece of recyclable paper called a diploma; here I have my thesis proposal; here I have my excessive absences which are all accounted for; here I have my failing grades in Statistics, disproving my belief that I am not mathematically-challenged; here I have my so-so grades; here I have my incomplete which I doubt I could complete this semester; here, here, here, HERE! *suffocates* Here I have a knife maybe I should just kill myself and end this complexity in the process.
Of course not. Must. not. quit.
N-E-V-E-R.
The diploma is not a crowning glory, but people make it feel like it’s goddamn necessary. I hate it when other people make a point.
