Somedays, I feel like a puppet...

Graduate school sucks. Fact of life, I suppose, but it does. The program I am in is intensive, relentless, and makes me cry at least once a week. True story.

Here's how it works: right now, I have 3 days a week of classes (10 hours total), 7 clients (so, about 20 hours a week of clinic work), 1 3-hour diagnostic a week, and 10 hours of graduate assistantship work. The summer session (starting in June) is even more intense than normal. Since it is a shorter session, we have all of our classes twice a week. Imagine 12 hours a week for 2 classes, 4 days a week, plus 7-10 clients and the diagnostics. This is why I have anxiety dreams.

So you could imagine that the 5 weeks in May/June in which I was not supposed to have classes was a beacon of light. Neigh, it was a small shred of hope and sanity. It was to be a time when I only saw clients. And at a time when my current semester is ramping up to the point that I am starting to be bogged down by case studies, hypothetical treatment and assessment plans, and finals looming (in addition to 2 treatment plans, 7 treatment reports, and multiple diagnostic evaluations and reports due for REAL people in the clinic), it was really all I had.

Please note the usage of past tense.

Today I was informed that I will now be taking a class during those five weeks that were once my blissful respite. A four-hour a week class that will include weekly reading responses, and a cumulative project. It might not sound like much, but it absolutely crushes my world. It has knocked my tears spillage to twice this week, and it's only Wednesday.

Granted, it was posed to me as an optional seminar. I could elect to take it. Sort of in the same way you could elect to wear clothes in public or have license plates on your car. Sure, it's your choice, but the consequences of not complying are less than pretty.

I will agree. The topic of this seminar is important. I concur that in my professional career, I will encounter people with different cultural and language backgrounds than my own. I understand that I will need to know how to work with an interpreter, translator, or family member that is bilingual. I am excited to have resources at my fingertips in order to determine which assessments are appropriate for translation. On a broader level, I really, truly understand that. But let me tell you, the idea of more case studies, today, right now? My outlook is bleak.