manumission

And so it ends with a whimper instead of a bang.

The final exam left most of us somewhere between deflated and irate. I came away knowing that I'd done my best, and that I won't be pursuing a career in quantitative economics. I felt better about my (qualitative) econ knowledge when I got my term paper back and saw that I'd earned a perfect score.

Afterwards, the MBA crew headed to chez Allison, got our collective drink on, and learned a choice Turkish idiom from Tuba.

For now, I'm free at last. Free to spoil my dear sweet Casey. Free to take care of last-minute Christmas shopping. Free to wash a mountain of laundry. Free to write my Christmas cards. Free to read a book for the sheer pleasure of it. Free to go to a concert. Free to leave town for my first vacation in 18 months. Free to daydream about the Fairytale of New York and a magical Christmas to come.

And free to slowly release the tension and dread that I've carried in my body and my psyche for the past few weeks. I yearn for sweet relief.