When I was younger, I used to so look forward to the first day of school; to the advent of school supplies and assignments and structure. However, in February of this year, I can’t say that I was thrilled to put down The Goldfinch and pick up a syllabus that morning. Waking up and preparing for school again felt like an assault on my freedom.
For anyone who’s been there, fourth year is so unstructured — you’ve survived 75% of your USMLEs, and are now in a string of pass/fail clerkships punctuated by periods of travel and self-discovery. I came into that environment after a research year, during which I structured my time as I saw fit and did so both happily and productively.
When February hit, I wondered, “Is this how it’s going to feel every day for the rest of my life, now that I’ve had some time to experience what life is like when you don’t live and die by your study schedule?”
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