“Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skin in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming “Wow! What a Ride!” ― Hunter S. Thompson

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Spontaneous is not the first adjective that my friends would use to describe me. I toe the line between fun-loving and responsible; spontaneity falls outside of my comfort zone. I have known this about myself for a long time and I don’t think these attributes are necessarily bad, but this quote has been making its way back to me a lot this week.

Yesterday I woke up at 7AM and reworked my resume. Before, I had a plain, one-page resume, with Times New Roman size 10 font (it’s actually not difficult to read) which details a few work-related experiences from high school in addition to my college experience. Of course, I cut out most of my extracurricular activities (Princeton Premedical Society and Her Campus Princeton) for my abbreviated/creative resume. When I looked over my work-related experiences from tenth grade until now, I realized how much time (and free time) I dedicated to preparation for what comes next. As an eleventh grader, I was the social media campaign head for a new company. I spent my free time writing newsletter, tweeting, writing articles, conducting market research, and connecting the CEO with like-minded corporations. That’s strange. It was a great opportunity and I greatly enhanced my skill set, but the truth of the matter is that: I haven’t taken a summer off (entirely) since the summer after sixth grade and I think that’s incredibly unhealthy.

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Atelophobia: the fear of imperfection, of not being enough.

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In the past, I saw New Year’s at the opportunity to have a perfect year. I aimed to be put together (all the time), be well spoken (all the time), be amazing (all the time). I was shooting for perfection and this desire to be perfect is extremely present at Princeton. In part, it is a good thing, it pushes us to work extremely hard but it has a cost. Each failing, every deviation from perfection comes with a shame and disappointment.

I’m made an effort to not put too much pressure in regard to resolutions and I make small, meaningful, and achievable goals for the upcoming year.

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“There is only one thing that makes a dream impossible to achieve: the fear of failure.” ― Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

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I started 2013 anxious. I was worried about the then-upcoming application process to medical school and whether or not my decision to apply to medical school straight out of college would be the best decision.

The moment I stepped into my first premedical requirement at Princeton, I made it my mission to forge close relationships with the other individuals in my class. Princeton is difficult! Being a premedical student at Princeton is difficult! Difficult journeys are not as bad when you have friends in the same boat. A lot of those friends are not longer interested in becoming physicians but many of my friends who still identify as pre-medical students have decided to take a gap year. And so (and rightly so), I was anxious.

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“I always find beauty in things that are odd and imperfect – they are much more interesting.” ― Marc Jacobs

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I have been negligent: I apologize. In the past two weeks, so much has happened. A bomb threat unleashed panic on campus; my family returned to Louisiana after a glorious two weeks in the northeast; I began my senior thesis research in the Hughson lab. It has been really exciting to put into action the experiments I proposed in my junior paper.

I feel extremely grown up. I am living off-campus with three roommates: two are molecular biology majors and one of which is a chemical and biological engineer–I know, we’re a very scientific assortment. Yesterday, I woke up around 9AM, late (it’s a long story), skipped breakfast, made it to the lab around 9:30AM and immediately began my miniprep of the pETDuet vector.

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“I don’t know where I am going but I am on my way.”

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I take comfort in what is certain: there is one day until my birthday, three days that I will spend in Atlantic City, six days until I move into the house I rented for the summer, eight days until I submit the AMCAS, and thirteen days before I start my senior thesis research. Numbers. They’re never wrong;  this brings both an feeling of  security and an aspect of fear this is (as you fellow premedical students can relate) inextricably linked to my academic career.

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