Oh, Reader. I have so much to tell you.
Last week, I graduated from Ashland University with my Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing. As graduations often are, mine was bittersweet. Finishing two years of school was liberating and terrifying, but I had no time to process those things because, as is also typical, graduation was hectic. Before leaving home, I had to turn in my thesis, read three books, pack for three weeks, wrap up loose ends at work, and plan a celebratory family vacation. Then, since I had no time to daydream about my two-week residency at Ashland, I was convinced it didn’t exist and that I would die on the plane to Cleveland.
I did not die, however, as impossible as it seemed at the time. I actually lived well, meeting two incredibly interesting people on the planes and landing safely to find my faithful roommate of three summers, Carrie, waiting to take me to said residency, which truly did exist. Thank God.
The following two weeks were full of wonderful poetry workshops and seminars. Subsequently, I was also surrounded by brilliant, artsy-fartsy human beings and tried to fit in with my Southern Country ways. Carrie coined the term “little-ball-of-weird” for all of us, which is the truest term, though we each exhibit it uniquely.
While I was being my weird self at the grand finale of my degree, I was also being called for interviews for an Administrative Assistant position at Anderson University. I had four phone and Skype interviews, met with an editor, and defended my thesis all in less than a week. At this point, I should be ready for my interview with God.
Anyway, everything turned out well. I successfully defended my thesis and passed the program. I landed the job. I graduated. I survived a week in a mini-van with my parents and my husband’s parents driving around Ohio Amish Country. (They all survived, too, by the way.) Even as I type, I just made it through the first day of the new job.
How am I celebrating these accomplishments? The packing and unpacking. The flying and driving. The witty comebacks. The thinking on my feet. The writing an entire book, for goodness sake. The juggling two jobs and paying the bills. The new credentials. How am I waving the flag on my new mountain of victory?
Just as any adult would.