Getting it in was not much in question. I had confidently shared this only a fortnight ago and in so doing, had (re)set my intention. Sometimes hearing myself tell someone else how a particular achievement is possible, and what it might take it to get it done, concretises the faith necessary in order to do precisely that: get it done.
It was more about how and when than if. Procrastination is something I'm well practised at. I know it's landscape and texture well. I can taste it. There is something comfortable about the discomfort inherent in this as a modus operandi. Thankfully, it has been contained to matters academic. Beyond the books, I don't tend to flirt with deadlines. My prolonged career as a student (albeit latterly a part time one) has become the forum in which I have pushed my affinity to be within earshot of a deadline before so much as typing the title. It has been, I realise, the sole realm in which I am answerable only to myself. It affects nothing, and no one, else whether I make a deadline.
Not directly, at least. I have breathed more than a few sighs of relief. Breathing in, knowing I'm breathing in and breathing out, knowing I'm breathing out. I can breathe. Miracle of miracles. I can draw breath. I need not feel anything other than liberated. I have nothing outstanding. No deadlines looming. Nothing need clog up the horizon which is, for the moment at least, relatively cloudless.
Next time (should there need or happen to be one), I will do it rather differently. I am no longer under any illusions as to the nature of the challenge that studentship alongside 'real' work entails. In the meantime, may the celebrations continue. I hope to receive confirmation in due course that my recent (and somewhat arduous) scholarship met the required standards.