One month ago
exactly, it was a Friday. I went in to the paleobiology lab at my school,
thinking it would be my last time ever in there. It didn’t feel like it; it
felt very usual. I worked on work that I didn’t finish, which didn’t worry me
because I have connections in the department and even though it was my last day
(as mandated by the expiration of my key card), I figured I’d be back plenty to
finish the project.
I left and
didn’t think any more about it- the past two and a half years have primarily been
set on that campus for everything from socializing (I know) to learning to
working to having a warm/quiet place to run/read in the winter. I assumed I’d
be back often, and I have enough friends and acquaintances roaming the campus
and it’s close enough to home, so why not?
Today I went back
to pick up my diploma. I have been putting it off for weeks. Part of the
reasoning there was sheer unintentional inconvenience; I just haven’t been up that way during
business hours over the last month.
But another part
of the reason was subconscious denial? Maybe? The diploma meant the end. It
meant admitting my program wouldn’t have a grand finale, so it was up
to me to transition voluntarily. It meant that it was very much time to shelve this one and move on. I wasn’t aware of this (denial, being a key word here). But today I
had a window of free time and figured I’d stop by before picking up groceries.
So I drove to
the school. As usual. I spaced out on the very, very well-worn drive there. As
usual. As I approached the last stoplight before the driveway to the campus, I
snapped back. I was getting a headache, because I was clenching my jaw. I took
a deep breath and realized I was also white-knuckling the steering wheel for no
apparent reason. I wasn’t even thinking about anything in particular. Weird,
but dismissible.
I texted a
friend I thought might be on campus, and the light turned green. I made the
left turn, found a parking spot and took the long way in on the off chance I’d
run into someone. There are some good people I left on that campus that reside among the People I Will Go Out Of My Way To Run Into.
But I didn’t. I
saw no one on my way in, past the doors to the big lecture hall, past the
lounge, past the mailboxes and coffee machine. They had started new
construction since I’d been in (one month
ago) because of course they had. That just added onto the very unsettling gray cloud that was growing, hovering, but still unacknowledged.
I got up to the
Registrar’s office, where I’d never been before.
“Can I help you?”
A woman’s face in a square surrounded by cubicle wall.
“Uh, yeah, I’m
here to pick up a diploma?” Of course I said it questioningly, like I had wandered in to a back-alley deal to covertly and confusedly procure someone else’s blackletter document.
I immediately preoccupied myself with irritation. At myself. For that.
“Oh, okay. Do you have your ID?” She seemed jolly and unphased, even despite my now-over-analyzed entrance.
“Not my school
ID, but I have other IDs.” I started to rustle through my satchel. The white
tentacles of my headphones had done as they do and multiplied to engulf every
single scrap of paper and pen and suddenly my keys within the depths of my bag,
even though I’d just dropped them and my wallet in there on the elevator up. As
I tried to casually untangle, she said something that I mistook for “I just
need to know who you are.”
“JORI” I announced
very loudly, because I usually over-annunciate my name whenever it’s perfectly
unnecessary.
In the middle of
borderline interrupting her to stuff my name into her face, I realized she was just
telling me it was okay that I didn’t have my school ID, she just wanted to make sure
the names matched.
She still didn’t seem too bothered as she checked my driver’s license, which I had somehow produced, and walked back to an empty desk behind her. I could see a single purple diploma case sitting on its top, and was surprised they were giving me more than a manila envelope in which to carry her home.
The cubicle
woman handed over the puffy purple folder, and I thanked her quickly and tried
to smile pleasantly (which, as usual, came off as very fitting punctuation to the whole interaction), and she
congratulated me and I thanked her again over my shoulder. I was trying to
decide if I should go find my old library comrades in the next building or just get
on to the grocery. The only thought I gave to the diploma was that I felt really conspicuous carrying it around.
I took the
elevator back down, and tried to mentally move on the grocery list, but the
gray cloud of Something was still hovering, still very unsettled. I took the short cut back to the parking lot, to my spot, and pulled my keys (and
headphones and several pieces of paper and a green pen) out to unlock the doors.
And when I got
in and started the engine to leave is when the gray cloud descended. Finally and fully.
I had tossed the
folder onto the passenger seat, but I picked it back up and opened it for the first
time.
A paper that
equals two years of Work. Of tears and money and sweat and lost sleep and
arguments, etc. etc., plus the preceding year(s) of indecision. I snapped a
picture of it and sent it to a few people. It seemed bigger than the other ones I have. In a few obvious ways.
And then I sat,
and felt things I had no idea I would even consider feeling. Especially at
receiving a piece of paper.
They’d cancelled our graduation ceremony (because the non-clinical classes were too small, but we might still be
invited to the 2015 ceremony?), and forced us to file Pick Up Diploma under
Things To Do, along with get groceries and go to the bank and count preserved cats. So that’s what I did,
without much thought to the weight of it, but for a few jokes about maybe wearing my college cap and gown to go pick it up.
That gray cloud
ended up being pretty weighty.
It made me
feel and think some things, out of nowhere, that I very much was not expecting. Some seriousness at closure. Some
bewilderment that I forgot to realize another transition.
And because it’s one
of my top skills, I filed the gray cloud away, as I’m wont to do, to be dealt
with at a later time. Filing doesn’t always work immediately (or eventually, I guess), but it’s how I do.
I had other
Things To Do today. So I moved on and did them.
