Look Mum, no degree

I’ve been sick this week, knocked down with whatever lurgy is doing the rounds at the moment, lovingly shared by my boyfriend. This meant I spent one day in bed, and two days aimlessly moping around the house. It also allowed me many hours of naval gazing (It would have been much more productive to do some housework, but I was sick, dammit!).

In between watching Ellen and napping on the couch, I realised something. I hate uni. I hate my degree, I don’t want to work in that field, and I sure as hell didn’t want to go back again this year.

I’m doing the degree part time, and this is year three out of five. For the last five semesters, I’ve been quite sure that this is what I want to do with my life. Although I sometimes struggled with assignments, I was content.

This semester, however, is different. I haven’t wanted to go to classes, I’ve barely even looked at the lectures, and put very minimal effort into my assessments. At first I thought it was because I was tired, or lazy. But having this time off has given me time to think, to REALLY think about how I feel. And I began to understand that I wasn’t lazy, or I just couldn’t be bothered. I really don’t think I want to do it anymore.

This is a scary realisation. It means that I may have studied and struggled through the last two and a half years for no reason. That I have wasted my and other people’s time and energy for nothing. I expressed this worry to a workmate, who said “fuck everyone else. You’re the one who has to live with the decisions you make. You don’t want to look back in 10 years time and wish you’d done it.” Fair enough, I thought. What if I finish my degree, get to the middle of my grad year and absolutely hate it? At the same time, what if I don’t finish, and spend the rest of my life wishing I had?

It was enough to make me reach for the sav blanc.

But for this decision, I needed a clear head. As desperately as I wanted to flip a coin, I had to think long and hard about how I felt. I knew I had the support of my boyfriend, so this decision was entirely up to me.

And after some serious deliberation, a lot of pacing and a few tears, I came to a decision. I decided to take what’s known as a leave of absence. This means I am not enrolled in my classes for the rest of the year. This semester has been wiped clean, like I never went. I have taken leave until the beginning of first semester next year. I thought that five months would be more than enough time to come to a long term decision about my uni future. It will be a lot easier to work out what I want without the stress and distraction of assignments and study.

So there you have it. I’ve quit uni. Sort of. And only time will tell if I’ve made the right decision. But regardless of whether or not I return to my studies, the fact that I was able to take such a gigantic step makes me feel more confident about my ability to accept and adapt to change. Which means at least one good thing has come out of my boyfriend giving me his flu.

Now, where’s my wine?