The PhD has been defended. My boyfriend is now allowed to call himself “Doctor” when he’s abroad. They had nothing but praise for him, and I was proud. We celebrated both Monday and Tuesday night. Beer, wine, champagne. My head was working a little slower than it usually does the first couple of days this week. Last night we enjoyed a quiet dinner and an early night.
Invitations have been sent out. We managed to keep it a secret which meant that a lot of friends called us asking “what the….?” They were all pleasantly surprised, and it was fantastic to feel their reactions. Our families on the other hand haven’t been all that surprised. It seems they have been waiting for it.
Work is work. Vacation time for most of my colleagues is getting seriously close (in two weeks I will be the only one there) and a lot of projects need to be wrapped up, so at the moment I am working like a battery driven rabbit. One of the worst things about a position in the lower end of the food chain is that I am often the messenger running between two or more people never delivering my own messages, but solely someone else’s.
When one day ends another begins. I used to think I would feel a difference once the PhD was done and over with, but if we are to experience a new kind of life, it has yet to come knocking on our door. I have high expectations for the weekend. It is the first weekend since J submitted the PhD in early May that we haven’t had any plans. No birthdays, no christenings, no family visits. Just the two of us and a roll of easy bake croissants. We are basically going to enjoy the average life we haven’t lived in months.
All of this to say I am still alive even though my presence here has been limited, and I’ll keep you posted on my average life as it goes along.