Copacabana

Waiting for the thrill

I walked out of my Program Evaluation class this evening -- wherein we have learned to evaluate programs, as stunning as that is -- and had to stop mid-walk when I realized the following: I will never walk back into a classroom for this master's program again (unless I somehow bomb my finals which isn't likely because I will not stop until I feel confident that they are sufficiently aced). I took a moment and wanted to feel more -- like skipping or jumping up and down or drinking many shots of some nasty well-brand liquor until a friend finally coaxes me out the door with an embarrassed smile to the other patrons who have been quietly wishing my loud, obnoxious self horrible rashes and other nasties because I just wouldn't shut up about how I'm almost finished with my master's degree and how it was such a long time coming, etc. and blah, blah...

But I didn't feel any of that. Instead, I just felt kinda tired and a little scared.

Tragic moment of self-awareness = realizing you're lame for not being more proud of your accomplishments. Maybe I'll realize one day that everything I went through to get here was worth it. But I don't feel it yet. Help me people...my sense of entitlement in squashing my enthusiasm...

Addendum: and then this morning I remembered that my parents surprised me Friday and came up to see me dance. And I felt better again. Small gestures make all the difference. It's funny how many people don't know that...

posted by Lola @ 8:43 PM