thoughts from a spring 2016 grad, on the rest of our lives

It's been a while.

I go through phases. When I'm sad, I write poetry. When I'm wistful, I write poetry. When I'm inspired, and excited, and motivated, I don't write poetry. This is definitely not poetry. 

Right now, I am one month into the last term of my education, ever. 

I'm not sure whether my motivation stems from my upcoming move into industry, or the amazing applied mathematics class I'm taking this term, or just my excitement to graduate. But I can say this for certain: I've never been more excited about what I do. 

I suspect that I am burnt out from struggling to learn theoretical math. I have spent the past four years learning about a world that doesn't exist outside of your mind, and it's an incredible (and incredibly hard) thing. 

I have spent midnights in Middlesex College, wandered campus at four o'clock in the morning, been brought to tears of frustration over impossible problem sets, almost honors-failed a class, changed my career path four times, and spent too many hours in a certain professor's office asking for life advice. 

And I would completely, really, truly do it all over again. 

I have developed an immense respect for mathematicians, and an appreciation for the art of math. Despite it all, I have loved majoring in math. 

But I am also excited to start applying my education to real-world problems. I'm excited to apply math.

I remember the nervous energy in the air on the last night of my summer internship as all these bright young kids sat around a fire on a warm night to celebrate and talk about the rest of their lives, and that feeling has stayed with me.

 Today, I still feel like I'm on the verge of the rest of my life.