It’s been a quiet Winter here at Rum Creeters. I’m sure you readers have had plenty of more important things to attend to, and (speaking for myself) this Rum Creeter has had a Dickens of a time (pun intended) coming up with posts while The Real World beckoned.
I’m currently halfway through my last finals week as an undergrad. Hopefully. There are still a few things I need to get taken care of, some forms that need to be mailed and some professors that need to be bribed (just kidding…sort of) and I don’t want to jinx it by saying, “So long, School! I’m outta here forever!” just to get the, “Not so fast…” letter saying I need to come back for one more pointless semester.
I only have one more final (Friday morning — here ’til the bitter end), so I am technically almost done. But there are some last minute assignments I need to turn in, because that’s how I roll. (Can’t you just hear the grad schools clamoring for me?)
The one good thing about my school’s new policy of not having December commencement (I’m supposed to come back in May to walk) is that I have time after finals to make sure my paperwork is squared away, since I don’t have to absolutely know for sure that I’m graduating on Friday. I’d like to get that taken care of as soon as possible, of course, for my own peace of mind. But it’s not something I have to worry about while I’m trying to pass exams.
One thing is certain right now: come January 7th I will be back in my home state of California. Diploma or not, I’m taking next semester off.
I need time to heal the rift that’s come between me and formal education. I need a chance to miss being in class. I’ve felt so smothered for the past few years, I’m almost willing to do something desperate just to get away from all the essays and presentations. It’s not you, College, it’s me.
And maybe, someday, after I’ve had some time alone with Work, I’ll come running back into your arms. If you’ll have me.
Rachel the Gone but not Lost