A Foggy Day

This morning there was a lot of thick fog (creepily enough, on Friday the 13th!) on my way to work (at 5:45 am. I feel like I should mention that every once in awhile so that you can feel good and sorry for me. haha.) It was so thick that I had to be about 15 feet away from the signs on the freeway to be able to see them, and I was terrified that I would miss my exit. (Also, run out of gas - I need some, and I didn't really have time to get some since I was already running a little late. I'll be getting some before I get back on the freeway today.) I was watching very carefully for signs and breaks in the line (because that's where I was going to find my exit), and when I got to the road where my building is, I was counting driveways so I'd know where to turn in. (Good thing I'm practically Sherlock Holmes and pay attention to such things.)

It was a little bit freaky driving through the fog, and not just because it was hard to see, but also because it made everything look different. I feel like I was driving through a forest - like that one Batman drives through in the Tim Burton Batman. You know what I mean? Curves in the road made it feel like the whole road was curvy, like if I didn't pay attention and jerk my wheel back and forth like Doris Day I was going to fly off a cliff.

Situations like that always make me wax metaphorical - usually with bad results, and this probably isn't an exception - about how my life is like this. Right now, more than any other time in my life, I feel like I'm taking things one tiny step at a time. For a long time now it's been, "Well, I'm just waiting to see if I get into grad school. I'm just filling out grad school applications. I'm just trying to get a job. I'm just studying to take the GRE." They're all such tiny steps, and it's hard to feel like I'm getting anywhere. (I was talking to Whitney last night about how, while I'm grateful to have a job and like my job just fine, I sometimes feel silly being a college graduate in a job like this. When my supervisors tell me I'm doing a good job, I kind of think, "Well, it's not as if it's rocket science to answer phones. I understand Shakespeare and T.S. Eliot - do you really think answering a few phone calls is going to throw me for a loop?" But I digress. Except that yes, I did just compare the understanding of Shakespeare and T.S. Eliot to rocket science. Sue me.) Actually getting into a grad school gives me a tremendous sense of relief, but I realized almost as soon as it happened that I'm still going to be taking babysteps. "Oh, I'm just trying to decide which grad school to attend (assuming I get into more than one). I'm just trying to figure out where to live. I'm just trying to decide what my focus is in the School of Information. I'm just trying to learn my way around a new city. I'm just trying to find a place to work during school. I'm just trying to get a job." Really, the only thing that this step provides is a little glimpse of a road sign in the fog so that I know where I'm headed right now. It doesn't give me a better sense of how long it will take to get there (ever notice how fog completely kills your sense of time?) or what the rest of the road looks like.

I'm happy to have a road sign. It's comforting to know that I have somewhere to go in the fall - sometimes I think being in school is a little like being inside for awhile while it's foggy. Even though you haven't figured out exactly what you'll do when you get outside, at least you can see what's going on inside the walls.

I shouldn't write this early in the morning, and I apologize if this is rubbishy or boring, but I still can't see out the windows here, and I want to remember the foggy feeling while it's still here, because I'm sure it will go away when the sun comes up.