As of Saturday I have been finished with coursework. Since Monday I have been a cranky hell-beast. There is nowhere I *have* to be. Nothing (much) I *have* to do. I've been rattling around my apartment, half-heartedly reading a few sentences, doing a few push-ups wondering how in the world I will begin to motivate myself for my new 'real life'.
There are no more syllabi to guide my readings, no more term papers to direct my writing, no more grades as carrots for which to strive. I can be as ordered or as relaxed as I like. Whatever suits me.
How am I to know what suits me????? Being busy, terribly busy suits me. Having more to do than time to do it suits me. Sacrifice suits me. There is no sacrifice now: I have more time than things to do.
And so I'm a cranky hell-beast, irritated that I am not now burning with passion to write, to read, to achieve!