I have always been a little weird, but in the beginning of grad school, I had friends. We would close out the campus pub, get pizza, maybe catch a movie. When things got rough one of my friends and I would get chai and sit on library hill chatting and relaxing. But things were horrible. I had the qualifier looming over my head. What if I failed? Where would I go? I finally managed to pass. From there on out it was golden.
Wrong. I moved out to my experiment. The students there seemed to already have their cliques and I am awkward so I didn't do a good job being a joiner. I worked hard, hang with my cat in my apartment, and spent time with my now husband. I never got the chance to join the cool kids at my experiment. Then, instead of trying to meet people at the bar, I tried to kill myself. After that my husband and friends insisted I move back, so I wouldn't be alone. But in my experiment I was very alone. I was that weird girl who made the controversial move. For mysterious reasons, no less. I don't envy my advisor for trying to argue for me. Anyways, the end result is that I was and am the odd woman out. And that was just with the students.
(Title: With A Little Help From My Friends, The Beatles)
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