Holding Pattern

In all of my traveling, one of the most frustrating experiences I have consistently faced is the time between the airplane arriving at the gate, and disembarking. The priorities of everyone else seem to have instantaneously switched from lets have a pleasant flight and perhaps even make polite small talk with my neighbors to this is my only chance to win a gold medal in wrestling and sprinting at the same time! And then there's me: waiting around, fully understanding that shoving people and jostling into the aisle won't actually get me off the plane any faster. When my turn to leave my seat does come, I always end up climbing up onto a seat to extricate my bag from the deepest depths of the overhead bins, looking and feeling more than a bit like a small child. Finally, I make it off the plane, and to my destination, typically all in one piece, and ready to meet whatever adventure may or may not be waiting for me.

There are 73 days standing between me and undergraduate commencement. We have been taxing down the runway since we touched down the afternoon of comprehensive exams in October, and the gate is in sight. And now it seems to be my turn to adopt the mentality of Push and shove, people! Push and shove! There are immensely important things to be done before the blessed May morning arrives (not to mention approximately 50 pages worth of papers to be written and 10 hours of exams to be taken), but all I can seem to think about is the life that begins May 17th. Granted, I have no earthly clue what that life will look like (perhaps I think I know what I want it to look like, but most of the time that life seems too good to be possible and certainly not in my immediate future), but it seems to be all I can think about. Life in a new city, a job I've been working toward for the last four years, new people, new experiences, new opportunities, new adventures. All bright and shiny (and, let's be honest, terrifying), and all out of reach. And so I wait. Patience is, after all, a virtue -- the lack of which I must oft confess. But I would be lying if I didn't also confess that all I want right now is to get my degree out from the overhead bins, get off this plane, and be at my destination. Wherever that may be.

I would like, Mr. Herrick, to gather my rosebuds, but I can't yet. Trust me, I know old time is still aflying, but it's just going to have to go on without me for a little while.