Upon docking, we knew we had to find a local person who looked creepy enough to sell us some pot. It was Jamaica – there was no way we were going to leave without some Marley. The first person beyond the customs check was a coconut seller. We asked and he delivered – it was Jamaica.
Spring break was marvellous. I’m sure describing it would make most envy me. There was a giant cruise ship, Caribbean islands, zip-lines and adulterous offers from excessively hot Russian women. I’d say I did okay for my last spring break. There were downs too – sunburn, miserable failure of basic blackjack strategy and the consequent plea to the mother for more money and the belly that accompanies one too many beers. Very entitledtwentysomething problems.
Now let’s get down to the more real problems – I’m seriously contemplating putting myself in therapy. Why? Combinations of abandonment issues coupled with trust issues along with the added doses of insecurity and the inability to be content. One of my closest friends enrolled himself today and seriously advised me to do the same – it’s easy to recognise a sinking ship from one that’s half way there.
The beginning of this semester was recruitment season, a god awful terrible time for all Juniors. (Yes, I’m a Junior but this was my last spring break cause I’m graduating next semester). I’d hesitantly turned down two decently reputable offers last semester on the claims that I could do better. I doubted it. Of the people I have to thank, I think my closest friend (since I was a child) and my girlfriend are to thank the most – they were the only ones who vehemently believed that I could do far more and shouldn’t settle. My degree at college is a combination of Math, Statistics, Economics and Computer Science – an oddly lethal combination. There are only 7 of us who got into the program in my year – we’re pretty damn tight. We ended up interviewing for most of the same positions – my peers scored Deutsche Bank, JP Morgan and Bank of America Merrill Lynch jobs. My girlfriend signed with Morgan Stanley. Although I had a potentially nicer offer from DB cause they really wanted me, I chose to sign with Goldman Sachs this summer as a trading intern. Yeah, I nailed that shit. I hate using the word stressful to describe how I feel, but bloody hell this made all our palms sweat on a daily basis. If the tie’s knot was off by an inch, it could potentially piss off the guy who’s having coffee with you and bam – you’re out.
So I’ve landed the job that everyone wanted. Now what? Time to cut carbs.
I went pretty hard at the gym this semester and I believe it’s paying off. One of my students (I’m a Teaching Assistant so I teach ~ 30 student classes) actually left a mid semester review saying, ‘You look beautiful in a suit.’ Why, thank you; they ARE custom made with some of the finest threads you could possibly find on earth. Another one said she found me on Tinder and promiscuously walked off. Yes, I’m smart enough not to get myself sued for sexual harassment.
Now, even if I tell you why the musings in my head are shredding my brains, you’ll probably sneer. My sister had a great explanation for why my musings are perfectly legitimate – yes, there are starving children in africa but it appears that contextualising your problems doesn’t solve them. Rather, it just adds frustration and guilt to the mix. Ergo, without putting these into perspective – I feel like shit today. I feel like I’m constantly carrying around these wretched thoughts and they just don’t want to leave.
My mid semester grades sucked. Not the – Damn I got all B’s – kind of sucked. I got my first ever D. And a couple of B- grades. Throw in an A to ensure my sanity. I was supposed to be smart, right? Eh – wrong. Turns out I’m capable of being smart but this was the first time I realised that this capability is far from absolute. There is a strong probability that I am unable to comprehend certain math and consequently disastrously fail. If I keep going the way I am in the D grade class, forget graduating early, I may take 4.5 years to finish my degree. Which could potentially mean I may not even be eligible for a return offer from Goldman. Well, shit. Therein lies the first bouts of insecurity.
The second bouts come from my current relationship. I’ve somehow not had to work very hard to get women I wanted and been extremely lucky. This one was very different. It took a lot of time and a lot of restructuring my aesthetic appeal to get the yes. I don’t blame her for not saying yes when I was obviously not physical attractive – it’s a superficial world and aesthetics matter. So yes, this one was a catch; she’s pretty damn hot too. Now, with that hotness and the fact that she lives a couple of hours away in NYC, comes the obvious fact that she’s going to hit on. A lot. I’m not the kind to get perturbed by this usually, but the point that our relationship has reached is bringing back some terrible teenage memories. These involve getting cheated on after a 2.5 year relationship once and after a year long relationship the other time. Yeah, couldn’t catch a break. I would love to say I trust her – but I’ve been jaded one too many a time I guess. She’s much simpler than the other women for sure, but I wouldn’t be able to blame her even if she did something. Long distance sucks and human attraction is but obvious. Coupled with the jaded feelings from past relationships, the unfortunate events that plagued my family as a child somehow crept up. Having observed human tendencies to be prone to adultery make me very iffy about trust. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to react when I hear stories about how her friends tried to hook her up with this hot guy, or how the guy that every girl wants kept buying her drinks and dancing with her now with all this in my head. Also, she’s on spring break right now and all I’ve heard is that she’s been extremely drunk every night around (potentially hot south american) guys who’re falling all over her. Earlier, I’d laugh it off. Now that we’ve been dating for a while, and now that I see the potential of this relationship actually being more than just a temporary infatuation (no, not that long either – I’m asking mother dearest to find me a wife when I absolutely must get married back in India), it just hurts my brain a little. This is where the mix of the abandonment and trust issues coupled with the insecurity gets a little nasty.
It’s taken me a little over 20 minutes to write down everything so far – in that 20 minutes I just realised something. I could potentially cure my abandonment and trust issues by adding a commitment issue to the mix. I know I’m not going to be with her for too long – it just can’t work out cause I need to go back and help the father lead his industry – so why fall deep? As long as I let myself be tilted towards being stoic rather than emotional bumblebee – Eureka. Now I just got to go hard on the stochastic calculus and I’ll be solid. And grades and girlfriends aren’t things I should be worried about anyway – I look beautiful in a suit and I’m going to be working at Goldman Sachs. I’m doing alright.
I read a great line about finding the right woman – “Find a Times New Roman in the streets and a Windings in the sheets. She exists.” The russian on the cruise was wearing a flowing elegant long black dress and looked classy as hell. When she took me to the side, she grabbed onto inappropriate things with some force and asked me if I had a condom. I walked away cause I’m committed (yes, it wasn’t easy), but damn, windings in the sheets for sure.