I logged into my UBC student account this past weekend to find that my final grades for the year have been posted. (All A-plusses, I’m happy to report.) Along with that was a letter confirming that I’d completed all of the requirements for finishing my degree, which I’d get later this month.
In other words, stick a fork in me. I’m done.
Somehow, of course, I still have a boatload of work to do. For starters, I’m working my way through the pile of short stories I’ve written over the past two years and inputting all of my colleagues’ comments into my electronic files. Somehow, I can’t imagine putting all this paper in my luggage and hauling it back to St. Louis. Then there are a few more revisions to do on the thesis before I circulate it.
And then there’s that whole finding-a-job thing.
I’ve been going through all of the books on my shelves—the ones I brought with me, the ones I’ve bought in my time here, the ones that have otherwise wound up in my possession. Funny how this seems to happen wherever I go. Somehow, I’m going to get everything down to what fits in two suitcases. Otherwise, it’s being given away. (Vancouver friends, I might have some books you’d be interested in.)
How can it already have been two years?