I did it! As of today, I have earned my graduate marketing certificate! Eleven months, 34 papers... Hang on. Is that? Yup. 34. Let me spell that out. Thirty-four, THIRTY-FOUR, papers. In eleven months. Which is almost 34,000 words. Thirty- Never mind, you get the enormity by now.
(And two final exams.)
I did it. Done. Over. I'm all Alice Cooper up in this biotch.
I'm proud of myself. You have to understand, before this, the only other thing I'd ever seen through was Saran Wrap.
OK, OK. I graduated high school and college (barely). And wine school. But this feels a lot more serious because, as I've discussed before, there have been some decisions that weren't very thoroughly measured before I made them.
That said, I don't feel the way I thought I would today. I was expecting to feel lighter, more free. Cathartic, like I've attended a Viking style funeral for 34,000 words sent blazing down the East River.
But the thing is, I'm worried. I pushed myself really hard. I exhumed fancy marketing lingo and business-minded promotional schemes from buried places within me that my 17-year-old, hell 30-year-old self would have called the poseur police on. I did it all hoping I've finally done something useful for a change.
What if it isn't?
What if I spent this whole year stressing out, shutting in, losing sleep, growing in pure white hairs, missing all the fun and...
Ok. Let me have a couple of drinks. This is cause for celebration, right?
These things will sort themselves out.
Like a cat, I always land on my feet.
I'll try to ignore the fact that for the first time in 11 years I just saw my cat miss a landing.