I'm home. Back to the place where my roommates don't play Celtic Women in the morning, followed by death metal. That place where 2 a.m. is a time to sleep, not bake brownies and invite friends over.
I woke up at one o'clock. PM. A full twelve hours of sleep. This may have been because my Dad listened to 1776 the entire drive home, slipping me into a time delayed coma that hit at midnight. Or maybe I finally maxed out on my sleep debt and the collectors came. With high interest rates and bats and tylenol pm.
I drove out of Cedar City yesterday around six. I could think of all the reasons why I should be sad. I could think of all the reasons why I should be excited. But really, I didn't feel much of anything. I'd said my goodbyes, breathed in the campus as I walked to my last classes, mentally memorized the neighborhood as I ran late at night to give myself a break from studying. I even teared up a little bit as I wrote about some people who I made good friendships with, who I won't see anymore. I won't miss them in the aching everyday feeling that lingers. I'll miss them when I see them again, and think about all the new memories I haven't been a part of.
But as I closed the trunk for the final time and looked around, I knew it was time to move on. I'm ready. It's very matter of fact really. My two years are over, it's time for summer, and then for transferring. Maybe it'll hit me later, maybe it already did. Either way, there are no tears. Just a soft thoughtful feeling of what I could cry about,. It's nice to know there are things I could cry about, that I experienced some really good times. I feel prepared. I learned not to fear the ladies in the front office - something that's terrified me for as long as I can remember. I asked a question during my biology final, actually raised my hand for clarification, something I've never done before because I didn't want the surrounding attention. It's a ridiculous notion, that people around me would notice I had a question and think ... well who know what I was afraid of them thinking, but I was. My worst fear came true, I planned a program for residents and no one came. And I was fine. This year I re-learned (finally) how to really study. Too many easy general ed classes can ruin even the best of habits learned from Mr. Felt. But now I remember. I remember and I'm ready to do it again, for many many classes.
I've said a lot of thank you's over the past few weeks. Thank you's, and I'll miss you's, and recognized a lot of important relationships. There's a lot more to dwell on, plenty more I learned. But right now, it's summer. I'm home and I have to mow the lawn before my dad gets back from the market. I just have one more thing to say.