Just a few months ago I was writing about Centennial in October …
… and now we’re already in the thick of December.
People are starting to come out of the woodwork on campus. Since I’m constantly bouncing between meetings, I’m on campus almost every day, but people I haven’t seen in months are heading into the computer lab to print papers and applications or sip coffee in the lounge. Two or three are getting ready to take their comprehensive exams this month, and many more are working on final papers.
I try not to think about last year very much. Yet last December came to my mind as I gave some empty advice to a colleague. (You’ll be fine, everyone feels this way. It’s part of the process.) As this point in my fourth year, I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it or if I even wanted to. I applied to grad school because I want to write for a living, but I was stuck in revision hell, tweaking sentences for advisors who couldn’t agree on what they wanted and wondering if I had enough guts left in me to rewrite that paragraph for the fourth or even fifth time.
Today I’m a week away from finishing my third chapter (drafts! all drafts! I constantly remind myself). The pages are flowing, and the stuff I’m producing ain’t all that bad. It’s what I want to write, and I’m finally feeling a gentle breeze on my back pushing me forward. I’ve been in grad school long enough to know that the weather can change at any moment, but for the moment I’m enjoying the knowledge that I’m doing my job.
This is all to say that things are going. Onwards and upwards—!