JustRunJustLiveJustBe

“So do people tend to make noises during this?”

“Yeah, all the time.”

“Well, I’ve been seeing you for years and never have, so I just wondered.  But today might just be the day.”

“Well, feel free.  It’s totally normal.”

“Like borderline inappropriate normal?”

So went my conversation with my massage therapist yesterday afternoon.  Because post-final class but pre-margarita, I’d scheduled a “reward massage.”  Why I feel the need to call it a reward, I don’t know.  Why I feel the need for a reward at all may seem a little much, but dang if it didn’t feel good just the same.

Over the last fifteen weeks, any time I’ve told anyone what I’ve taken on with school they think I’m insane.  I get strange looks from people, shocked that I’m still standing at all. People that went through medical residencies and intense MBA programs, and went back to school after they had kids are calling me crazy.  They could be right.  That would certainly explain how yesterday, after that last final, I sent everyone I know (and even many I don’t know) messages saying “This señorita is having a margarita.”  Crazy it is.

But last year, when I started all this, a strange thing happened: I felt like it was right.  Suddenly, the thought of a goal and the end game became more important than any thing else.  More important than doubts and fear. I was more excited about it than anything I’d considered in the past, and the weird thing was, the motivation came from me.  Only me.  Sure there is support and encouragement, but at the end of the day taking on a massive amount of work seemed completely possible in my mind.  Which, I think, is what I’d waited for all along.

It probably is going to drive me crazy. Of course other things will be pushed aside.  OF COURSE I don’t know what’s going to happen when I’m finished.  But if what remains feels anything like what’s already been done, I’ll be glad to keep going.  And as each part comes to an end, I’ll be glad to celebrate it.

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