I realized today that I have about 18 months left of vet school. This simultaneously feels like forever and the blink of an eye. How long did four years seem when I had first moved up here, had no friends and was missing my loved ones and everything wonderful about the good ol' USA? It seemed like a desert stretching out before me - a desert devoid of Chipotle and cheap milk and gas pumps that lock into place. I think I've adapted pretty well to Canadian living overall, but there is nothing like going home. Heading home for a break feels like a weight is lifted off of my chest. I get to the point where I feel as though I literally cannot wait another second to hit the road. Now that finals are fast approaching, my mind is turned toward home like a racehorse peeling around that last turn: no pulling it up, no slowing it down, just go go go. It's all I can do to stay on the horse these last few weeks; it's certainly an exercise in mental fortitude!

Anyway, of the remaining 18 months, 12 of those are fourth year rotations. I'm fortunate in that I know what I want to do with myself when I graduate (while I have come to understand that life will do as it pleases, I'm still a big planner) so choosing which rotations isn't very difficult. It seems the hardest parts are a) deciding when to schedule what and b) preparing my application for my externals.

I began working toward vet school in earnest my sophomore year in high school. I had heard from a family friend that experience was an important thing for applications, so I rode around with an equine ambulatory vet for the summer. From that point on, I was focused on making myself a good applicant. I screwed up in the grades category, but I busted my butt to get experience, do well on the GRE, get letters of recommendation and be involved in the community. It paid off in the end - here I sit, a third year vet student. Beginning of first year, professors and administration kept telling us, "Grades don't matter anymore! Relax, you're in!" And I let myself believe that in first year. But that first summer, I was rejected from a research program at NIH - experience I wanted because I wanted to do lab animal - and it hit me like a ton of bricks: it's still a competition. You will always have to fight someone else for what you want in this world, and the better you can make yourself, the better chance you have of being the winner of that fight. External rotations (at least the ones that I want) require an application - a resume, a cover letter, transcripts, letters of recommendation. It's almost like vet school all over again, and I let myself feel discouraged. I'm tired of having to structure my life around impressing other people. Yeah, I want to be good at what I do, but I want to do it for myself and for my family, not some panel of people who will decide whether I'm good enough to work at their facility for a few weeks. (As an aside: I get it, I really do. But it still frustrates me.)

So I put off writing those cover letters. Saturday, I sat down and I made myself write my first one, for the Baltimore Aquarium back home. And you know what? It felt good to get it done, because I knew I was one step closer to my goal and to my freedom from school. In the end, all of this work that seems like it's for other people is really for me. Those people will come and go - some may reject my application for an externship or a residency or whatever - but my career will always be mine. And I'm going to make it good from the start.