Have I told you that I hate narrative blogs? Blogs that go, today I woke up at 9am to go to blahdeblah and then had lunch at blahdeblah and then bought blahdeblah and oh by the way I am so pissed with so-and-so because of this and that and yadda yadda, so at 10pm I came home to sleep, the end.
They bore me so bad that within 10 seconds of reading the page I fall asleep and start dribbling all over my keyboard. Perhaps that is also why I refrain from talking about the mundane and the technical details of everyday life. Partly because documenting my thoughts alone is so complex and gargantuan a task that everything else seems secondary. Partly because I just can't be bothered. Life is complicated enough as it is, why bother to remember more than what is necessary?
But now I am going to do just that. Talking about the boring nitty-gritty of school, just because I'm feeling like it.
You know, for the longest time, I had been trying to decide whether or not to stay on for another year doing honours. And trust me, when I say long, I really mean long. It is not an understatement to say that I had never before experienced such a pure state of bewilderment and confusion as I oscillate between the two possibilities like some sick pendulum.
I feel like I am standing at a fork road in my life where every single decision that I am compelled to make seems to carry so much weight. A domino piece that if not placed carefully enough, is going to make one big royal topple, stir the crap out of my life and leave me cleaning up after my own mess. It is not just about doing honours or not. It is about my time, my finances, my family, my career, my time, and basically my life. I only have one, and I wasn't about to be flippant about my choices because unlike computer games, you don't get to reset and try again.
A few days ago, I finally decided to graduate. No more honours year. And I procrastinated on making the decision up til the very last few hours before the registration closed. Perhaps I was just leaving my options open, hoping for some sort of divine intervention, like maybe a big fat angel that I would find flapping away outside my window holding a big banner that says "DON'T DO IT!".
So yadda yadda, click confirm, enter, done. Yay, graduating.
Then two days ago I received a notification that said that my graduation application was rejected, because I didn't fulfil the faculty requirement. So I did a quick check here and there, to find that everything was closing around me. To cut the long story short, once upon a time, I had misinterpreted something, taken the wrong module, and was hence short of one module to graduate. Sounds like a joke right? Yea, you can laugh, because I am laughing too. I was in disbelief. I mean, this is the sort of things that only happens in my mind, man! The kind of mock scenario I used associate with an imaginary doofus and laugh at. Not the kind of thing that I would imagine happening to MYSELF. So technically, all along I had been laughing at myself. ha-ha.
In retrospect, it is all very amusing, because when I registered for graduation I jokingly told Rudy, Oh well, lets just see how this goes. If it turns out that I cannot graduate, then maybe it's God telling me that I should do honours.
Talk about Murphy's law, man!!!???!!
Absolutely speechless. While I know it bespeaks poor character to blame something else for my own stupidity, I can't help but partly blame the school for my misfortune. Why do they have to make everything so vague? I think every freshman should get an idiotproof guidebook of some sort which lists out exactly what to do without us having to crash about and ask around and risk screwing everything up. Things like how many level 1000 modules are we allowed to take throughout the duration of our course. It was never much emphasised. How the hell are we supposed to know these things?
I spent one very miserable night considering a lot of options and moping around feeling morose because everything was so effed up. But I think amidst all the frustration God really showed Himself to me. I remember previously asking God for signs and answers but always ending up disappointed because I thought God didn't care enough to give me an answer. But now that I think of it, probably I was the one who wasn't listening. I was too preoccupied with telling God how big my problems were, too busy feeling victimised. It really is ironic how you only manage to see the big picture when you are standing at the end of the road and looking back at what has already been said and done. Now everything seems to acquire greater contrasts and sharper edges. Actually even the gray bits seemed not-so-gray afterall if you look real close.
And to jolt me out from my stupor, I suppose He just had to make use of drastic measures like this. Leading me to a no-through road so that I can make a U-turn. Employing the assistance of NUS admin to ask me to get my bum back to school to mug some more.
I may sound like a schmuck trying to sound over optimistic, but all is good now. Because it is really in times like these that God feels so real. So close. From feeling absolutely lousy, I am now looking ahead. Bordering on excitement, even, if you push it a little.
God, i'm telling you, has got a sense of humour. Trust me on that.