I finished my Ph.D. on Monday afternoon. I am signed, sealed, and delivered. It is now Dr. Ginandtacos to you.
As I have found the completion of this task both completely overwhelming and strangely unfulfilling, I can't lasso enough neurons and get them pointing in the same direction long enough to write anything coherent for Tuesday.
We convince ourselves that our lives will change when we pass these kinds of mile markers, but tomorrow I wake up and go back to work (notwithstanding the intervening 10 hour drive back to Georgia). I did take a few hours Monday afternoon and evening to feel awesome. I'm glad I did. Now, back to the salt mines. The degree is only relevant inasmuch as it is a prerequisite for landing an academic job. When I finally pass that mile post (a real job, not the hey-we-need-someone-for-a-few-years kind) I might even pause to feel awesome about it for a whole day.
But probably not. I'm not really wired to do anything but choose and fret over progressively more unrealistic expectations for myself.