Three years of study, nine months of research and writing, 85 pages and 16,952 words. My Master's degree dissertation is finished and it's ready to be delivered to the Open University's Regional Office on Monday.
I'm mightily relieved, especially after the mini-meltdown that was the last two days whilst I was tweaking and printing out, but at the same time I'm a bit sad. I'm a huge fan of the Open University. I did my first degree with the OU so naturally it was first choice when I wanted to do a Masters. It's a brilliant institution for people who need to fit studying in around real life, and now it's all over bar the shouting. The work I've been doing has been part of who I am for a long time now and it's going to be strange to have this particular baby leave the nest. But now I'm free to do whatever I like with my time instead of scouring the internet for academic articles, requesting obscure papers from the library's Local Studies Collection or sneezing over relics in the archives. And that's a good thing, right?
I'll be able to get to grips with the garden which has been doing it's own thing for far too long. I'll be able to sort out the piles of stuff in the attic which have been gathering cobwebs for years. I'll be able to catch up on all the knitting, crocheting and sewing projects that I've started (or wanted to start) but haven't had the time. I won't miss the studying at all. Well, not much, anyway.