A week and 6 days ago, I found out I was accepted to medical school. After about 24 hours of deliberating, freaking out, and generally trying to convince myself that this was, in fact, reality, I accepted my position at New York Medical College, and informed my no-longer-future employers of my regrets.
It is amazing how one e-mail can change the entire trajectory of an entire year. I was in the middle of re-applying to medical school, and luckily, had only spent money on my primary application. Mike and I had accepted the reality of continuing to live in a studio apartment for another year, and I was going to work full-time and finish my master's degree in exercise physiology. We were going to take leisurely weekend trips upstate, and spend the year completing little projects that would ultimately lead us to entry into this next phase of our lives. Now, we have signed a paper stating that we will be out of our Upper West Side apartment by August, we are looking for a home in the suburbs, and I will be a medical student in less than a week. It feels sort of like walking across a nice bridge, knowing that you will get to the icy river after a leisurely hike, and when you get there, you are aware of the steps you will take to ease yourself into the frigid waters for a nice refreshing swim. Then a gust of wind pushes you off the bridge and you land in the water, reeling from the impact, and your partner has nothing to do but jump in after you.
All of this said, I am thrilled with the turn of events.
