I quit uni. Yesterday afternoon, I was under slept, coldy, and got up at 6:30am to go to a Lifeline shift. I felt like shite. I couldn’t quite fathom how everything could possibly fit into my life. Here is a list of my current (or previous) commitments:
- Raising one small child full-time
- Doing part-time psychology honours
- Doing part-time writing work, which is about 40 hours per book and I have two books to do in two months
- Working in a café every Saturday and sometimes Friday as well
- Doing a Lifeline shift every fortnight
- Co-facilitating a mother’s support group once a week in Alstonville
- Running Mother Ink, a website for women to share their mothering experiences
- Maintaining a relationship with my husband
- Maintaining lots of wonderful friendships
- Going to playgroup once a week
- Keeping my house semi-organised and de-moulded
- Keeping a crop of pumpkins under control
- Did I mention trying to raise a two year old effectively?
Oh yeah, I am also three months pregnant!
Luckily, I get a lot of support, but this list is ridiculous, isn’t it? Remarkably, I have only been seriously stressed about twice, and yesterday was one of those days. Sitting in the car, returning home after a weekend away and late nights, nothing my husband said could console me.
“Well quit uni then,” he said (as uni is the one commitment I dread and dislike).
“I can’t bloody quit uni!” I yelled, “because then next year and every year after I will have two kids and it will only get harder! And knowing the psychology association, they will change the rules and I will have to do even more study!”
“OK, so don’t quit. Now let’s work out how to be happy about it and get through the next five weeks”.
Crap. I felt crap. That was a crap solution. I moaned the rest of the way home, and slammed the door as I got out of the car. Two minutes later, I am on the phone to uni trying to work out the solution. No, I can’t defer my course. Yes, I can reapply next year. And no, it seemed unlikely much would change in the next few years.
Half an hour later, my finger was hovering over the CONFIRM DISCONTINUE button. Is quitting really the answer? I have done it before, many many a time. In fact, quitting uni courses is my forte. But in this case, Superwoman would survive, and I know I would too if I continued on as is. But would I be sane? Would I have a social life? Would I be able to do any of it particularly well? The answer to all these questions is: probably not. And so, I pressed confirmed, and suddenly it was all over.
I feel good, particularly when I think about those two text books I no longer need to read before the end of April, and those two essays I don’t need to do before we go to Europe in May. My priorities are my daughter, my pregnancy and my husband. Whatever else can’t fit on the plate must get off. And so it is, nine (or more) discontinued uni courses later, I will be a better mother, friend and partner because of it.