can professional napping be a post-grad plan?[sean

[April Stockton]

It was 10:23. April groaned as she saw the clock and then looked back at the mess on her desk. She had less than ten minutes to get to her meeting with Dr. Neville and her meticulously organized folder of college acceptance letters, summer internship possibilities, and a well thought out pros and cons list about the option of not going to college at all and finding work suited to her abilities. She ran a hand over her hair, checking the bobbi pins that held the cornet braid in place. She had been nervous and instead of getting prepared decided to try out a new hair style, and while she liked the result of the look she was regretting spending fifteen minutes on it.

Where had she put that damn folder? She checked her watch again and began opening drawers, digging around until it occurred to her- bed. She turned and heaved a sigh, seeing the corner of the folder peaking out from the blankets where it had gotten buried when she threw the quilts on earlier. She picked it up and checked the contents, double checking to make sure they were all there before stuffing it into her bag.

She checked her watch a third time as she hurried out the door. Shit. She was going to be so late. Why couldn't she have been born with super speed? Or time manipulation? She waved to someone as they began to start a conversation with her, "Sorry, late for a meeting!" she called, half jogging half walking briskly as she exited the dorm building and headed toward the building where Dr. Neville's office was. At least being late meant she didn't have time to get flustered about how under prepared she felt. Most other graduates knew what they were doing by now, with the acceptance date for colleges just a few days off, but instead of making any final plans April had become paralyzed by choice and made a bunch of lists.

She stopped just short of bursting into the psychiatrist's office five minutes late, which was exceptionally good time considering her late start. She ran a hand over the creases in her skirt and checked her hair again, then knocked.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Some of the more pleasant aspects of Sean’s position at Hammel were the guidance meetings. The school didn’t have a proper guidance counselor, and thus, as with many other tasks including delivering the annual Sexual Education Seminar and acting as the disciplinarian, the psychiatrist found the job title subsumed by his official duties. He liked to work with students to examine their potential at such important junctions of their life.

The psychiatrist remembered being in a similar position as a student, those decades ago. Of course, he knew that he had to attend college, as he had planned to become a doctor even then. However, the idea of the future, of life outside of the school and of adult responsibilities were as daunting as they were exhilarating. His decades of association with teenagers and young adults kept him sympathetic, even as he matured into the responsible, professional individual that he was in the present.

Decades of association with teenagers and young adults also made him familiar with the fact that time could be relative to some people. And that, even for those more meticulous, lateness happened. Five minutes was less than he waited for some other people, and he wasn’t put off by April’s tardiness. They had scheduled the appointment bloc, and he had nowhere to be until that bloc had passed.

Instead, he spent those few minutes sipping coffee and preparing for their meeting.

When she arrived, he sensed her presence outside his door before the knock. Upon hearing it, he called out, “Please come in, April and make yourself comfortable.”

Once she entered and shut the door, they could begin.

[April Stockton]

April opened up the door, peaking in before stepping through the door fully. "Sorry I'm late," she said. She hesitated, not sure if she should leave the door open or shut and deciding to close it. These sorts of things were supposed to be confidential right? Which was good, because in public she had manged to make it look like she was pretty together about this whole graduating thing. She sat down on the other side of the desk and pulled her folder out of her bag, setting it on her lap. It had gotten a bit crumpled and she smoothed out the edges.

"So, I'm honestly not really sure what I'm going to do after graduation," she admitted, deciding to get that out in the open right off the bat. There was no point in pretending to know what she was doing when he was here to help with that. "I've been accepted to all the universities I applied to, but I'm just not sure what I'd want to study if I stayed in school. At the same time I don't know what I'd do if I didn't."

It had always been expected that she would end up in an Ivy League school. Her father had graduated from Yale and taken her on a tour there when she was nine. Her mother had always pushed Princeton. However she had long since stopped giving much credit to what her parents wanted her to do. She had applied for Brown, just to satisfy their insistence on at least one Ivy option, but if she was going anywhere it would be close to Pilot Ridge. She had good control and range with her abilities, but she was nervous about going too far away in case something went wrong.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Considering that her lateness was only five minutes, she hadn’t kept Sean waiting long. However, he appreciated the apology, particularly since few students offered apologies when they were only a few minutes late. “It’s quite all right,” he assured her. She had closed the door before he could indicate that she should, in fact, keep the door closed for their conversation; the thoughts he overheard demonstrated that she had correctly analyzed why.

That saved the task of one of them getting up to close the door before beginning.

As soon as she was seated, he offered her his full attention. Life planning was one of those areas where a second set of ears came in handy, even if, at the end of this, she chose not to follow his advice.

The ennui and uncertainty were typical, although she was in a somewhat atypical situation – insofar as she had so many universities available to her. Not everyone Sean encountered had that luxury. Although, the psychiatrist new from personal experience, such options could also quickly become a box in their own right.

“Do you have a sense of what you don’t want to do?” He asked, also taking the direct route. Since April was comfortable delving right in, there was no need for him to beat around the bush either. “If focusing on one option as the right path isn’t working, it might help to eliminate everything you know for sure doesn’t interest you.”

That could have a broad or a narrow focus. “We can start with the list of universities, if you wanted. Or we could start with any of the broad options post-graduation.”