Background: I am currently a senior in college, so I've applied to optometry graduate schools (short, sweet, and to the point). I'm at the stage in my journey where I've been hearing back from the schools requesting I grace them with my presence for an interview. So far, I have completed four out of six total requests (still waiting to hear back from one place that isn't rolling admissions), which is way over my goal of two(!!!).
This past weekend, I went to Chicago. It was my first real time in Chicago (I've been to the airport before, but only for a few hours on a layover to Minnesota, where I smashed my face on the gelato counter because I leaned too far forward trying to look at the flavors). Anyways, it was quite the experience.
Prior to my trip, I had been wearing myself thin (metaphorically, of course. I've been eating so much that I'm surprised that I haven't gained 20 lbs this semester). Traveling to and from other interviews in Texas and Pennsylvania from the previous Thursday until Tuesday, staying up late and getting up early to study for my exam that I thought was Wednesday but was actually Thursday (the Philly airport's WiFi was being difficult so I was already behind), taking care of my sick roommate because I love her, sweating like a madman in my painting class because either the AC is broken or my professor is cold blooded, and leaving class early to pack for my Thursday afternoon flight were only a few of the crazy things I've had to deal with this past week. I was stressed coming into Chicago, putting me in a cranky mood for my flights (plus the fact that I had to leave my roommate to battle her cold by herself was upsetting #momstatus).
Sidenote: this was the first round-trip, layovers included, I have ever gone on by myself
As I was making my way down the removable hallway (not sure what they're called, but they are the tunnels that connect from the airport to the plane that are usually really cold or really hot), I got a terrible whiff of the unfortunate combination of stale alcohol and body odor. I wasn't the only one, the guy in front of me asked me if I too thought it smelled awful (after asking if I went to U of I even though I was wearing W&M sweatpants, whatevs). Luckily the plane smelled better, until I got to my seat. Of course I would be sitting by the source of the smell, not to mention the fact that he was so large that his stomach was spilling into my seat both under and above the armrest. Any hope of using my left armrest vanished (just like the man sitting next to me in the terminal when I took a bite of my apple and squirted juice on him, oops). I kept telling myself that it was only a 2 hour flight and that it would be ok. By the end of the flight, my neck was so cramped from leaning away from my neighbor that I was afraid I would be stuck in that position for a while. I was so ready to stand up, but as soon as the seat belt light went off, the large lady in the seat across the isle from me was already standing in what would have been my spot/what was my comfort zone. Here's where the claustrophobia kicked in. I no longer could use the isle space to lean away from my neighbor. Instead, I had to shrink down in my seat to avoid contact with either of them. Twenty minutes later we were finally deplaning. We made our way to baggage claim, and holy taxi there was so much traffic. Luckily my friend who lives in Chicago was driving so I didn't have to worry about getting hit by a stray car behind the wheel. Instead of the usual 45 minutes to get back to her place, it took well over two hours. But whatevs, we were bonding and singing and having a great time! Unfortunately I had to go to the bathroom, but I didn't pee my pants which was a plus.
So that was long winded, I'll just list the rest of my...bummer accounts because this blog post would easily turn into a novel if I elaborated on all of them.
I was late for my interview because the traffic was ridiculous.
The man behind the desk kept calling my friend and I "lady friends" and "girlfriends" ...awk.
I was so tired during the entire time at ICO, I just wanted to go home.
The 45 minute trip back to my friend's house actually took 2.5 hours (not to mention I almost peed in her car).
On the airplane from Chicago to Charlotte, this airport man made me check my baggage, when there was clearly enough room on the plan for me to store it in the overhead compartment.
There was a mechanical issue on the plane, delaying the flight over an hour. I was sitting on that plane for so long. Luckily I was sitting beside this very small Asian woman instead of a large stinky man.
When I finally arrived back home, I quickly discovered that my suitcase didn't make it with me. I had to wait until past 11 that night for them to deliver it to my room (when all I wanted to do was sleep/go to my friend's birthday party).
This post seems a bit complainy, but I haven't mentioned the point. Even though all of these unfortunate events seemed to keep accumulating for me, my attitude towards them wasn't what it would normally be. Usually, I'd just get all mopey and unpleasant. This time, I didn't even mind (especially dealing with being late to my interview). Hearing everyone on the airport complain about not getting to bring onboard their carry-ons and having to wait for what seemed like forever on the plane that didn't have air-conditioning, I was surprised that I didn't have those same thoughts (even though I had to be in Charlotte for my connecting flight). I was filled with a sense of peace that whole weekend, a peace that was definitely not from myself, but from God. Philippians 4:13 has never proved to be more true in my life. It says, "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." Going into this weekend, I had no strength. No matter what I tried to do, drink coffee, go to bed early, I just couldn't attain that energy that I needed to get through the weekend. I asked for strength from my God, and He delivered. There is no other explanation. Sure, sometimes I have doubts, but instances like these are why I cling to my faith. Jesus provides even in the craziest situations, and nobody can convince me otherwise.
