Dreaming of Physics

Shoot.

Shoot. Shoot. Shoot.

I purchased three books yesterday. And, despite my repeated convictions to spend less money at Powells and spend more time at the library borrowing books, money is not at the center of my present worries.

Well, it is... but, that's because I am still trying to replenish my savings account after a financially devastating November and December filled with a small amount of Christmas shopping, traffic tickets, first and last month's rent, and a new TV. (Note: The last two hurt so good.)

However, my explosion of harmless expletives has roots, not in anything monetary, but in what the books mean for my future/next year/destiny.

The first one? 'The Universe in a Nutshell' by Stephen Hawking. Yawn. Is anyone really surprised? The amateur astronomer completed his collection of Hawking books? Isn't he tired of purchasing books that don't make any sense to him?

The second one? 'The Wild Things' by Dave Eggers.

Okay, so this one has little cause for alarm. Actually, I should be celebrating... And, I should have one less 'shoot'. Let's start this whole thing over:

Shoot.

Shoot. Shoot.

'The Wild Things' is Dave Egger's novel based on Maurice Sendak's 'Where the Wild Things Are'. He helped write the screenplay for the recent film adaptation. And, apparently during the process of writing the screenplay, Eggers was encouraged to put the plot into a novel, as well. As I have been rendered smitten by each of Eggers' other works, I expect his interpretation of this classic to smote me once more.

Okay, so, that was a good more. I can't consider a chain of events where I would regret purchasing this book. Even if it winds up being an unenjoyable read, the book was produced covered in fur that gives it the appearance of being its own 'wild thing'. One way or another, this guy is going on my shelf.

So, the third one? The third one isn't even a traditional book! The first was nonfiction, the second fiction... the third is a test prep book. Not bad enough? It is the test prep book for the Physics GRE.

See, I spent my Martin Luther King Jr. Day turning my life around. Remember the leaves? I was turning them. I started a blog, I dedicated myself to going to the gym before work in the morning, and I sent emails of inquiry to universities across the United States that I might apply for enrollment into their Master's of Astronomy program. The response was overwhelming:

"Well, you only have a math degree... It would be better if you had physics... The GRE will be the bar that you're measured from."

"Then I'll teach myself physics!" the Max in me proclaimed. "I've got a healthy start, just grant me six months and a few books and the laws of physics will be tucked safely under my belt!"

That was my demeanor as I drove to Powells, as I tracked down the test prep books, as I paid with a swipe of my Discover card, as I had my parking verified, as I drove home, as I climbed into bed with the book, as I blogged about how I was about to crack the book open...

But, not as I started reading. Wow. As the pages turned, my fire flickered. A grave reality set in: those who teach themselves entire subjects of academia accomplish truly great feats. Feats that are definitely not the norm.

I 'shoot' repeatedly through this bombastic musing because I ran headfirst into the realization that there is a long, strenuous road in front of me that I must intentionally take steps down every day. A long, strenuous road that I could march powerfully down and easily wind up with nothing. The odds are definitely in favor me reaching the end, taking the exam, and not scoring as well as I needed to.

So, my watered-down profanities comes from the realization that I've got to do this thing and it may not pay off. I've got to stick with it... I've got to stick with it....

I've got to.