I've decided that at some point after graduation, when the boys and Mike are still in school and working and I have my days all to myself, I'm going to buy some champagne and drink it, all by myself with some chocolate and a good chick flick.
I don't normally drink at all, but I've got a bit of a soft spot for a little champagne.
I'm such a bum. I should be working on that final paper, but I've completely wasted two full weeks now. Motivation? Left. Gone.
In two weeks I will walk, shake some old guy's hand, and accept a diploma for the degree of a master's in English. I am 36 years old, and now I've got to find a job. Hmmm... yeah.
I should probably feel worse than I do. Ever the optimist, I can't help but see the whole thing as an adventure. I will write that novel. I will explore all possibilities. I will jump.