Well, here we are at t minus 24 hours before Match. I have a few random thoughts on the rather odd predicament I find myself in right now (odd because, as I’ve said before, I never, ever intended to be starring as my mother in some creepy horror-show rendition of my parents’ “meet-in-med-school-move-for-match” story.)
But before we dive into that I thought I’d acknowledge one very important thing: I have perspective. Not in my weaker moments maybe, when I’m crying over job listings and looking at the Boston weather.com page, but, in my more calculated ones, sure: I’m really trying to see the bigger picture. I’ve been bombarding myself with excessive coverage of the heartbreaking disaster in Japan as well as reading up on all my favorite everyday tragedies (childhood cancers, unexpected loss of spouse, etc. etc.) in an attempt to remind myself that three more years with my best friend really isn’t that bad, even if the backdrop is chilly and the company is sparse and my career is non-existent. The world is so much bigger than this and I intend to force my reaction to tomorrow’s envelope to reflect that, no matter if said reaction comes naturally or not. Katie Couric made me cry on the elliptical yesterday, so I’d say it’s kind of working.
With all that being said, here’s a few lingering thoughts:
-It’s really weird to be on the opposite team from Dave, especially when that means, essentially, not wanting him to do his best. In theory, of course, I want Dave to be the best doctor he can be and go to the most prestigious program he can, but in practice? When said practice involves snow and ice and a New England town devoid of journalism jobs? Not so much…or at least not so much that it’s stopped me from pushing for a compromise, a place that’s maybe not as good for him but also won’t be as bad for me.
The fact that I’m not totally rooting for him to get exactly what he wants is ok, I think – I’ve made peace with it, even if it makes me a bad fiance or partner or whatever – but it’s still just essentially strange. We’ve always been on the same team before and it’s weird to not be going into tomorrow with one goal, one mindset. I guess, in that way, no matter what the outcome, I’ll be happy when this is all over and we can go back to being teammates instead of rivals, in this one little arena of our life. And I’m more than happy to let a computer be the one to settle the score.
-I’m not going to Match. Yes, I see the irony: I’ve made you suffer through a year of whiney posts and hysterical phone calls (hi Mom!), and yet, when the big day arrives, I can’t even get it together to show up? It’s a little strange, but I really think it’s better this way. After all, Dave’s parents will be there, and we essentially want different things from this whole computer-orchestrated gig. And Dave will be there, and we also essentially want different things from this whole computer-orchestrated gig. Plus I’d like to save my days off for all those weekend trips to Boston (shudder) we might have to take to search for apartments/convince ourselves (er, me) the city really isn’t as bad as Jon says it is.
Also, my mom didn’t go to my dad’s match (instead choosing to burst into tears when my dad and his best friend brought the envelope to her office), so I have that precedent to live up to.
-Bridget, for one, is not in favor of this plan, remaining convinced I’m going to make a run for our fourth-floor window if the verdict isn’t what I want. Which brings me to my most important point: I’m really not going to jump, I swear. I might cry and scream and freak out a little, but eventually (next June, once the Boston snow finally starts to melt?) I’ll get it together and do my best to be happy wherever we are. If for no other reason than Dave’s recent plea: “Franny needs a mother.”
See you on the other side, kids.