Transistions

Today my mom told me that they have sold almost everything. The cars. The beds. Everything is gone.

I had my exit interview today. I warned my supervisors that I would probably cry. I cried during my interview for the job, speaking, ironically enough, about how hard it would be to let a student go from the program.

"How are you transitioning?" I was asked.

"Today is a good day," I told them. I did not cry. Not then.

"Your parents are coming back this summer, right? That will be so nice. You can transition together."

I don't think I can bear my own transition issues, much less anyone else's, so this is less than comforting. I'm glad that they'll be able to hopefully come to my thesis defense, though.

I cried later, on the way back to my car. I took the long way so I wouldn't run into anyone and have to explain that yes, I am graduating. No, I don't know what I want to do with my life. Yes. I will miss you.

So I decided, there are no good days or bad days. There are days. And they have good moments and bad moments.