School starts in 2 days. Less than that, actually. And I am not looking forward to it.
This was the first summer in 6 years of graduate school that I've actually accomplished something. I researched a dissertation chapter, and I've nearly completely a draft. I've established a routine -- oatmeal for breakfast; work out; hop the bus; hunker down in the library; work two hours; eat my sandwich; work a little longer; get coffee; work until 5; catch the bus home. It has worked.
My routine starting Monday is determined by when the bus comes and when I teach -- and 6 am comes early. I dread the change in routine, particularly because I know that my blood sugars will resist and I will have to try to figure them out while trying to figure this phase of school out, too. And each start of the school year means renogiating household chores, and generally means a couple of marital meltdowns. (AKA I meltdown).
But maybe I am dreading the start of school so much because it is my last year. The last year I will teaching in my department, the last year I will meet my friends for coffee; the last year I am a student after 10 years of student-hood. This is the year that I become a professional. I'm not sure I'm ready. The department has been my home for 6 years; I've checked my mail in the same office; gotten my coffee at the same place; put my feet on the same desk for a good portion of my adult life. I've asked my professors for help and have relied on the fact that I'm not "there" yet. And as I finish a chapter, then finish a diss, and apply for jobs, I'm no longer just going through the motions that I've been through. I'm stepping into a new chapter...and I don't know how it will end, or where it well take me. And that's exciting, but awfully daunting, too.