This is really happening...

I cannot sleep. In about 8 hours, I will be finally graduating from my 5 years masters program of occupational therapy. Now, to give you some perspective, I am a natural doubter. I think the worst in situations and I often worry about things that may never even happen. Imagine a year ago and all the possible scenarios I could conjure that would have led me far away from this outcome. But, needless to say, I am here. I made it. Today is most likely going to be an emotional day and I am definitely packing tissues in my purse. I have found the greatest friends that I can only hope will be part of my life forever.

I remember my first day of OT class. I was the new girl. I transferred to Duquesne from MC after one year. Everyone had their group of friends and non-assigned, but rather understood, seat at certain tables. The three transfers ended up at one table front and center. I was shy and didn't make friends quickly. For a few groups projects, I joined the table to my left. And now the people at that table are now my housemates and best friends. Since then we took on three more wonderful girls who transferred into our class. It's the six of us... young, crazy, beautiful, wild, hilarious, and the most uncensored group you may ever meet. I wouldn't change anything about my experience here. Sure, I stressed and complained about school work and the expectations of this program. But my memories have nothing to do with the actual assignments or class material; it's everything that came about because of them. I remember... making up completely inappropriate acronyms to study anatomy (i passed with an A), having the library as my home for three years and thinking this was real life, completing last minute projects with tears and laughs, running to get coffee every break we got to try to stay awake during class and studying, concocting stories of potential relationships among the faculty behind closed doors, deciding at the end of each semester who would be the first to marry our handsome advisor as he registered us for classes, keeping from going insane from sitting in the same room, at the same table, in the same seat for three years... and the memories go on. I'm gonna miss this place. I'm gonna miss my friends.

I felt safe in school. I had structure and a plan. Now what? Come Monday morning, when I do not have class or assignments due, I think it will hit me. Except for later today, I will never be in the same room with all of these girls again. I guess in a metaphorical way, my next classroom is going to be life and the real (un-sheltered) world. Wish me luck.