Praise The Lord And Pass The Biscuits

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It happened.

Finally.

Get your megaphone. Get your stadium. Get your copy of Oh, The Places You'll Go.

Tonight, I walked out of class for the last time. (Ssssshhh, no talk of an MBA or a PhD right now.)

I cannot even begin to tell you how good it felt. It's not that I don't enjoy school and classes and learning. I do. But I'd be lying if I didn't say that with a medical student spouse, a full-time job, a child, a book deal, and a house to manage, that the thought of not worrying about papers, articles, discussions, presentations, and essays makes me want to jump.for.joy. It makes me want to shout--like one of my co-workers used to when she was especially elated--"Praise the Lord and pass the biscuits!!!"

I feel like an enormous weight has been lifted--like I have (gasp! maybe?) free time (whatever the hoo-hah that is).

A few years ago, if you would have told me, "Hey! Guess what? Less than two months after you graduate, you're going get married. One month later, your husband is going to start medical school and be on his eleven-year journey to a career as a doctor. That same week that your husband begins medical school, you are going to start graduate school. And two months after that, you're going to be pregnant. Nine days after your first anniversary, you're going to give birth to a beautiful baby boy. Keep in mind, you are not taking a semester off in your Master's program during the whole baby thing."...I would have broken down weeping...OR...laughed in your face.hard...OR...tried to do the math in my head and then, probably, broken down weeping.

And yet, it's over. OVER. OVER. O-V-E-R.

(Okay, almost over. I still have to write a seventy page thesis and defend it.)

No more class. Hallelujah. I feel like my upset-to-leave-Mommy-and-Daddy five-year-old self is doing a barefooted cartwheel in the backyard. Like my bored-out-of-my-mind thirteen-year-old self is running around singing for joy. Like my get-me-out-of-here eighteen-year-old self is speeding down the interstate with the windows down.

Yep. After twenty years of school, it really does feel like that big of a deal. :)