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Vouloir, c'est Pouvoir.
I've been in a strange mood lately. Now, while I'm normally one of those people that says "I'm depressed" or "that's depressing" as a means of expressing that I'm sad, but I don't think that's it. I figured it out when I started randomly freaking out about my kitten (one month later- not too late to be sad, but certainly too late to randomly become hysterical), and then I wasn't even cheered up much when Evan came by for a surprise weekend visit and bought me books, which normally can brighten up an entire month for me. I also haven't been eating or sleeping much (which normally means I'm either stressed or upset).

It was a weird call, if only because it's a weird situation. I'm completely functional, I'm just hating my life right now. Most people, when depressed, sit around in bed and are unable to do anything. I become a productive whirlwind in hopes that I can pull myself out. I finish all the menial tasks that are dragging me down -in this case, med school applications- yes, they are done, some random journal crap (that stupid journal is much more trouble to me than it's worth and can curl up in a corner and die for all I care. Unfortunately, my boss would not be pleased), midterms (marks above 90 on all three, thank God) and medical appointment shit (I pulled out one of my teeth the other day- a remaining baby tooth that was supposed to come out, but still.... Now I have to get it replaced. Ow.) Hell, I went so far as to start going to the gym. I am now more muscular and ten pounds lighter (and I certainly wasn't even remotely fat to begin with), but feeling no better. 

I considered all the usual stuff, of course. In case you were wondering, I have absolutely nothing to complain about in the deeper sense of the word. I have a pretty great life. I can go anywhere I want to, I have a good GPA and a fantastic MCAT score and I'm getting into medical school, I have a great boyfriend/ fake husband and an awesome group of friends, some world-famous researcher from the Mayo clinic tried to recruit me for graduate studies the other day, I'm at the top of my honors class without any significant effort, I seem to win most of the competitions I enter, I know without question what I want to do with my life. And this all comes completely naturally to me. Like breathing. Reflexive and effort free. And I'm grateful for that, I really am. 

Nothing. This resulted in some introspection, which yielded the following conclusions.

1) I hate my perfect, perfect life.

2) This is because, despite my vows to the contrary, everything I do right now is med school/CV focused. If I were to be completely honest with myself, I would have to admit that my promise to myself to only do what I wanted to do, regardless of whether it would help my applications or not, has been broken time and time again. 

3) Doing an entire freaking BSc on shit you don't care about just so you can get somewhere else where your degree will be suprisingly irrelevant is draining, to say the least.

4) My "serious relationship" (and fake marriage) is most probably going to be ended, not of its own free will, in July when I am uprooted and sent to one place and Brian is uprooted and sent to another place. Not that I'm co-dependant or anything, but I've invested a lot of emotional whatever in this and having it end for as stupid a reason as the medical residency matching people wanting to place Brian in Saskatoon and me being far too stubborn to compromise my education by getting my MD from USask is... well... a little cruel on the part of the Karmic forces of the universe. And I'm not doing the long distance thing for seven years. Sorry. 

5) I've come to the point where I really, really want another kitten, and I can't have one, because the fatal virus that the last one had stays in the house and on the furniture for a year. 

6) My fake husband that I probably won't be with one year from now due to evil Karmic forces of the universe told me a few weeks ago that he thinks things are going to work out, that we'll end up together and have kids in six years. Uhh. WTF. I want kids and all, but only when I can afford a nanny to raise them for me... and I'm 20 years old, and realistically, no, that's not gonna happen.

I could go through to 20 or so, but I'm not going to bore you. When I introspected further looking for a solution, which is usually where my sessions of feeling sorry for myself wind up, I drew a blank. Nothing. 

While searching Facebook for inspiration (while another tab was harvesting Farmville crops - I figured out the intricacies of Farmville in about 35 seconds and am currently letting my little animated farmer rack up points and brightly colored ribbons and ducks on her own, which annoys the shit out of my little brother, who is very competitive about that sort of thing), I came across this quote on the page of one of them 100% personality-free premed types. 

"Vouloir, c'est pouvoir."

The english translation isn't so elegant- basically, it means that you are capable of doing whatever you want- assuming, of course, that you want it badly enough. To want is to have the ability to do. On this particular page, it was followed by a quote involving "yo momma" and "fat" and "Jabba the hut" (who?).

If you want it, you can work for it. Seek and ye shall find. Knock and the door shall be opened. 

Which begs the obvious question- what do I want?

Well, I want the skin to peel off the bottom of my foot like in that gross picture Evan and I saw this weekend. That would be cool.
I want a CMA backpack, and I want my relationship to end on my own terms, not on the terms of the Canadian Residency Matching Service.
I want to stop doing office bitch work for my volunteer job, and for my real job, and I also want to quit my real job, because I hate it.
I want to feel like I really help someone sometime when I volunteer, rather than just feeling like I annoy the patients by begging them to let me bring them coffee.
I want to be better at violin, because lately I feel like I kind of suck, and lately I also feel like I COULD be fantastic.
I want a dress for Brian's cousin's wedding. I want Modcloth to restock the dress I want for Brian's cousin's wedding and for them to ship it to Canada within the next three days.
I want the honors post-lecture dinner that I've been roped into giving a toast at to be cancelled.
I want Brian to either decide to stay in Montreal or to stay someplace else, but for God's sake to stop going back and forth between cities because it's driving me nuts.
I want a nature paper. I want a New England Journal of Medicine paper. I want a review paper. And I want all of them now. I want my real-time PCR to work. Hell, I just want my preliminary EXPERIMENT to work, forget the RT for the moment. I want to switch with someone's next week so I have time to include the theoretical RT in my presentation data. 
I want to learn to ride a horse. 
I want to become actually trilingual, not just fake-bilingual and able to get by in Spanish.
I want to do a triathlon. Just to prove I can. 
I want to go on my theoretical BC ski trip with Brian right now, instead of in January. I want to stop for longer in Nelson on said ski trip. 
I want someone to fix my teeth for good. Like, tomorrow, if not sooner. 

And I will. It's easy to know what you want, and it's often easy to get it. Vouloir, c'est Pouvoir. 

I want to know where I'll be this time next year and who will be with me. I want a sneak preview. A spoiler. What's gonna happen to Marnie? And as much as I want it, I can't do it. Vouloir, c'est inutile.

The only advice the Facebook page can offer me is "Yo momma is so fat Jabba the hut said Dayyyyym"
I can wait it out. But only because I have to. 

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Jabba the Hut is that giant evil slug thing from Star Wars.

Other than that all I can really think of is to offer an e-hug? Sorry I fail at comforting. Or. Even interacting really. I am backsliding Marnie, I am talking to more and more people than I did last year and yet I just seem to be getting more and more completely socially incompetent. uh yes e-hug y/n?

I'll take it. Thanks :-)

The social thing gets easier. It just feels incompetent at first because it's the start. For what it's worth, you will almost certainly come across as more competent than you feel. You just have to work through the awkwardness and keep it up. I speak from experience ;-)

... Jabba kind of makes sense in context then.

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