For the first time in eight years, I woke up on a Monday morning with nothing to do
No dissertation to work on. No classes to prepare for. No research project with a due date hovering ominously over my head. Nothing to grade or present at conferences. No papers to write.
I lay in bed, taking stock of this strange reality. This was truly the end. My eight year odyssey was over. Four years of undergraduate school, two of grad school, two of my PhD, excluding the summer before my PhD, had led to this moment. I was finally, officially, done
I dragged myself out of bed and made coffee in my favorite mug. I sat on my balcony, steaming mug in hand, savoring the stillness of the early November day. I had nowhere to be. No one to impress. No emails to check or deadlines to meet
It was an alien sensation. One I was not altogether sure I liked
