You My Masta Now?

Way back in the previous decade when I graduated from college, I was doing what many other Gen-X slacker types were doing: surfing the ARPANET, buying flannel, playing in a band and, well, generally trying to avoid anything resembling a normal career. However, not blessed with a trust fund or, well, even a mutual fund, I had to figure something out. So I did what any other person whose mother works at a university (read: free tuition) would have done - grad school.

Then the tech boom started, and my penchant for technology, coupled with my secret love for "the man", led me suddenly to corporate whoredom, leaving me one course and a thesis shy of completing my degree. A few years ago, frustrated with myself for letting things go, I decided to finish what I started back in '95. I commuted from NYC to Philadelphia every Monday for an entire semester to complete that last class. And finally, this past Sunday I handed in my thesis. It may have been eight years too late, but that's better than, ummm, like ten years too late or some shit.

What's my point here? I don't really know. Maybe this is my verbose way of sighing in relief. It feels good to be done.