Coming up for air

I am currently working on my Ph.D. online. This, along, with the job, three kids (two who embezzle) and their activities and lessons, a house, a mother in hospice, and a marriage, has kept me busy, to say the least, since the first part of January.

I am blessed that I write easily and well, and I love research and love to do classwork. The online venue gives me flexibility in WHEN I do my work and WHERE I do my work, but I do miss the social aspects of being in grad school.

As part of the educational experience, our university has three colloquia during the program, where learners go off to a hotel and are immersed for five days in coursework and networking with one another. I was so energized from the experience--to be surrounded by so many intelligent and intellectual and focused individuals was such a grand experience. Plus, I ate food cooked by someone else and had a maid come in and make my bed each day, and during my down time I actually got caught up on and even worked ahead on my coursework, motivated by the wonderful minds which surrounded me.

Anyway, Friday was the end of my first semester, and the next does not start until April. I turned in all my coursework on Thursday morning, celebrating my early completion of my work. At work on Thursday, I graded and recorded all my class's work. I was caught up. Thursday night, I got in bed and started to fret. I had nothing to complete--nothing to be concerned about. This really worried me: how can I have nothing to worry about...I should worry about SOMETHING.

Like a drowning person coming up for air, I am gasping in relief. But at the same time, I start thinking there should be sharks.

Honestly.