My freaking college diploma.

My freaking college diploma. You know that piece of paper that you work really hard for for FOUR years and spend way too much money on? Yeah. That one. Well I couldn’t find mine. I leave for graduate school in Europe in 63 days and one of the requirements I need for the finalization of my enrollment and to get a student visa is the physical copy of my college diploma. I knew where I had put it. On top of my bookcase. But when I was in the process of applying for the program, I couldn’t find the physical copy of my diploma. Cue start of absolute panic. Totally freaking out. Barely attempting to restrain the sheer terror and hopelessness of the fact that I couldn’t find my diploma and wasn’t going to be able to apply for graduate school or even my dream program because the deadline for the application was on April 15th and it was April 15th.

Well just as this mind-freezing stress hit my brain, I remembered that I kept a copy of my diploma and other important documents on my computer because of figuring out visa stuff while I was in China. One of the biggest deep breaths I took was after I found it on my computer. So I used that for my application. After I got my letter of acceptance to my dream program, I saw that I need to have the physical copy of my diploma to be able to function or do anything for it. So the overhanging stress of the fact that I needed to find my freaking diploma in order to pursue my dreams and idealized future began. I started to rip through all of my belongings attempting to find it. It wasn’t in the box I keep all of my college mementos in. Or in the box where I keep all of my post-grad travel memories in. It wasn’t behind the bookcase or under it or even on the shelves. It wasn’t under my bed. Or in my basket of yarn and half attempted knitting projects. It wasn’t anywhere that I could find.

Tonight I redid my search. But this time I double checked the top of my bookcase. I took off the three paintings I bought in Cambodia and forgot to get framed. I saw my giant sketchpad and it wasn’t on it. Since this piece of furniture is about 7 feet tall, I couldn’t see the top of it. I can barely reach the top when standing on my tippy toes. So I ended up sliding the sketchpad to the side and I saw something black fall off of my bookcase. My diploma. This piece of paper in a black case that somehow proves my qualifications of education that has been eluding me for the past 2 and a half months.

Now I can kinda breathe. Maybe. I still am moving to another continent in 63 days where I only know one person living there. I still have to figure out what exactly to pack and how to smartly pack for a graduate program in which I will be moving countries every 5 months or so. I still don’t know all of the details yet about how to even pay for the program or what is going to be happening when the program kicks off in Warsaw, Poland in 66 days.

Don’t get me wrong here. I am beyond excited for being able to get my Masters in International Humanitarian Action. I cannot wait to travel the world while getting my education in how to help people and set up systems that enable those affected by disasters to be helped and learn how to help themselves. I’m ready for this. I’ve had a year to prepare myself and reflect on what I truly want. And this is it. Right now the details and lack of knowing them is driving me insane. But now I can deal with all of this with one less detail hanging over me. My freaking college diploma.