On Leaving
A week ago from last Friday, I was exhilirated to be finished with classes, and walked around campus gleefully thinking, "it's my last day of grad school!" When I pulled away from campus last Friday, it was a different story. I had packed up the remains of my office space, turned in all the library books I could find (since then I've found a few stragglers), walked by empty offices to the student parking lot to my car, which was by then situated between happy campers and RVs of ardent LSU sporting events fans, and I cried a bit. For the past three years, I've worked so hard to even get to campus, that leaving it was kind of sad. Everybody was gone already by the time I left, so it all felt so anticlimactic. I called my advisor just to touch base before he leaves for summer research in Europe. It occurred to me that I may not see many of these folks again until the annual musicology society meeting in November. It was kind of sad.
And I then I felt lost and lonely. Now I really have to start my diss, but I'm not really sure how. I have a few things to read and a general topic area, but I don't have any questions yet. I guess I'll just start reading. And spend some time looking at repertoire. It just felt weird to all of a sudden be there: at the point where one must start the dissertation. And I just felt so like stuck in a boat without a paddle. Guess I still do a bit. But it'll happen. My profs and I communicate well over email, and that's good, because that's all there is at this point.