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I am two hours and seven pages away from my preservation planning certificate.
Not that I'm acting like I have short timers syndrome.
It just feels like such a downer.
My undergraduate final class was mycology. The last thing I had to take to get my BS in Botany. I hated that course and our final was a lame multiple choice. Mind, it was hard, but it seemed so easy and such a let down after all that work.
My first master's, I can't even remember what I did before I turned in my thesis.
My second, I remember taking History of Housing seminar with Gail Dubrow as my last two credits needed for graduation. I remember it was a great class, lots of reading, one book on housing types a week, lots of writing and some big project time line. I took it as pass/fail since I left for two weeks in the middle of the quarter to vacation in Venice and Rome while my committee considered reading my tome. I loved that class and worked my ass of in it even if all I had to get was a 3.3 to pass.
This time it just doesn't seem that interesting. For one, I feel older than G-d and I have told that to numerous people. My dear Pat, who went through grad school with me has listened to my many strange thoughts about being in school again. My reoccuring dream about losing my felcos that we had to have for our planting design class and that our department chair was mad at me for losing mine. Strange since I never took a planting design studio. She also has heard me lament that I will be happy to never set foot in the Easy Shoppe across from Gould again. It is just time to leave, ya know?
Well, in any case, if I get my act together and my ass in gear, I can be done with my part of my paper by tomorrow, edit on Friday and be done with it.
Next time, I'm going with something a bit more my speed, but for now, I think I'll take a break.