In 56.98 hours, I will walk out of my final lecture of graduate school. But who’s counting?
Between papers and another writing project I am in the midst of, I haven’t been able to blog as much. But that just feels like a small taste of what the last three years have been like. I’ve anticipated being ‘done’ so that I could move on to reading the books I’ve wanted to read, and doing some writing I’ve had ideas about.
“When I’m done with school…” is a phrase that has kicked off countless conversations with myself.
But now I have 56.80 hours left. That handy phrase is facing its demise. Suddenly, I’m feeling the pressure to do those things I’ve always thought I wanted to do. Or at least, that I’ve always told myself I wanted to do.
The truth is, I do. But when the reasons I can’t are removed, it’s a little more daunting. No, it’s a lot more daunting.
Sometimes, when is a dirty word. It’s a handy technique we can use to get ourselves off the hook. But this kind of when is a way to shut down your soul.
There’s no time like the present. Or at least there won’t be in 56.55 hours.