the final stretch

Three weeks of school left. Just three. Four more major papers to write. A few more novels to read. One project. One Shakespeare performance. Two more online class sessions. Fifty hours of internship. And a film treatment. Then I. am. done.

And I am a bit lot terrified.

It seems like just yesterday I was making the announcement that I'd decided to go back to school. I thought I only had a year to finish up, but changing majors turned out to be more work than I thought, as did having to juggle mothering, working, and taking classes when I could squeeze them in--preferrably without having to find child care. So...three years later, here I am.

I am amazed at how quickly and thoroughly school became my world. Everywhere I go on campus, I know or am known by someone. I love eating oatmeal with vanilla milk in the campus Starbucks between classes, reading poetry and chatting with friends and professors as they come and go. I love that I am aware of the comfy black chair on the 4th floor of the library that I can grab a quick nap in (assuming the homeless guy isn't already sleeping in it). I love being stretched to my absolute limits physically, mentally, and creatively---and rising to the challenge to produce something better than I thought I could. I love being surrounded by intelligent, funny, like-minded individuals who appreciate my quirks--including the time I danced to Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance" for a class project. I love that I can ride my longboard to class if I'm running late. I love that a classmate once called me a hipster. Because usually, at 35, this is not the social classification one is put into :).

I feel safe at school. I feel like I have found my niche there. I have my own parking spot.

---I don't want to leave.---

But I kind of need to be paid some money now instead of paying it.

So, May 14 I put on my robes. And that gold braided honor's cord I earned through my blood, sweat, tears, and 25-credits-in-one-semester-calloused-fingertips. And I walk the line. And I say good bye to my comfort zone.

When I put a picture to this point in my life, it is of me standing on the edge of a cliff, my back to the gray green water far below. My arms are outstretched and my eyes are closed, swayed breath and the thump of heart fierce in my ears. Now I'm leaning backwards, further, further, tipping over the edge, sun on my face, impressed by the way my body carves through the air, impressed at my bravery. I don't know what it's going to feel like to hit...but the fall is amazing.

Here's to the final stretch and to the next adventure ahead. Somehow, someway, I am going to find out how to provide for myself and my sweet boy squad. Failure might be a forced stop along the way, but it will never be the final destination.

Thank you all  so much for the generous support you've given me, my decision making, my gumption, and my writing during these past years. I'll think of you as my hand grasps that diploma.