I have a friend who is about to start medical school. She's almost a year younger than I am. This frightens me despite the fact that I am overwhelmingly happy for her. And I'm by no means frightened about her capabilities as a doctor, more so about my own inability to ever accomplish anything that takes that kind of determination.
In class during our first year of university we used to talk in pirate voices. We discussed the uselessness of conjugating French verbs while using phrases like "arrrgh matey" and "abandon ship." I realized when I heard her wonderful news last week that she must have been bringing the conversation down to a level I'd understand. Boy, don't I feel silly now.
Maybe I'm not entirely immature. I mean I almost always remember to water my plants and the door usually gets locked when I leave the house, but you'd have to be a fool to put your life in my hands. I'm determining, through my medical musings, that maturity must not come with age. I think it has to be some sort of genetic thing. I have a hard enough time going to three classes in a day and writing a paper at night let alone devoting my entire life to my own education. And a practical sort of education at that. No thank you. I will continue to be a pirate, skip classes and wallow in the world of liberal arts. But at least I know that there are people my own age who are actually capable of functioning in society and who will treat my ailments even if I describe my symptoms in the manner of Bluebeard.
i miiiiiss you, me matey!
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