I'm Done with School

I can't seem to comprehend that statement.

I'm done with school

I don't have any more tests to study for or papers to write. I'm done school.

Two-and-a-half years of hard work is finished. I'm done with school.

Really?

Really.

Clearing off three shelves in my book case, I packed away my text books and binders and notes and projects, filling three plastic bins with everything I've learned in grad school. Then I put them up in the attic. Yes, I know I may need some of these once I start work, but I don't want to look at them right now. Instead, I'm looking at the three empty shelves on my book case to help cement the idea in my head: I'm done with school.

See, the books are gone.

All the work I did preparing for my exams is cleared from my desk. There is room to write again.

My Master's exam was last friday and although I won't know for sure if I passed or not until mid-April, I feel pretty confident that I did. It was a four hour essay exam and I had to show everything I've learned about teaching Orientation and Mobility to visually impaired people with complex diagnoses, such as deaf-blindness and diabetes. I had to explain the criteria for when a person should use a cane, or when they are considered safe to travel without one. After a few moments of panic when my brain went utterly blank and I couldn't even remember what the hell a white cane was used for, I just started writing, and then all that info that was crammed into my synapsis came pouring out. I probably wrote too much, but I didn't want to leave anything out that might be important for the test reader to see. When I left the room I was bleary eyed from staring at a computer screen under fluorescent lights for so long, my hands cramping from typing on an unfamiliar keyboard and my brain numb with fatigue. The three other classmates who were taking the test with me looked just as drained, but we were also grinning, because we all felt confident we passed.

Done!

That night we celebrated with several other classmates who came to join the celebration, and we drank margaritas and talked about looking for jobs and worried about money and laughed about the past and which lessons were our favorites and which lessons were horrible... as if we were in the same platoon and the war was over, but we needed to rehash a few battles just to talk to someone who understands. We talked about having a reunion every year; I hope we do.

Now I'm home, slowly working my way through that long list of things that have been waiting for me to do while I was so busy with school, like read books for pleasure; organize the pantry; have a Dr. Who marathon; iron. I supposed I should get cracking on preparing for a job, but I just can's pull myself together enough to make that happen. Maybe next week.

Feels weird suddenly having so much free time. I'm so used to being busy and stressed out, I don't know how not to be busy and stressed out. Obviously, I need more practice doing nothing. Perhaps sitting on the couch reading a novel will help.