There’s something about a clean break that forces the mind to reevaluate its activities.

I graduated college a couple weeks ago. (More on that soon!) Crowded together in that gym, jittery giggles slightly muffled by N95 masks, we pre-graduates grouped together discussing our futures. A couple behind me was getting married in a week. A man in front of me was debating lucrative job offers between Manhattan and Salt Lake City. Another woman on her way to MIT. So much excitement for so many different new seasons of life! Graduation was special, to be sure, but we knew we were on the cusp to begin the new life-changing chapter in our stories.

As I shared with my line mates: my end goal is to be a junior high social studies teacher, so I’ll be going to back for my master’s in teaching & history. However, I didn’t mention that my program won’t start for another year. Maybe two. Because ya girl needs a solid break from school.

Sure, I was anxious to put the brand new degree to good use. Even if I am at home “full time” for the next couple of years, I do want something current on my resume for when I eventually go back to work. But to be free from Canvas notifications and pressure of perfecting an email? Man, I could not wait to experience life free from that stress.

I just didn’t realize how empty my days were going to feel at first.

The first thing I noticed was the absence of chatter.

• No more alerts from my watch to log into class in 2 minutes.

• No more warbly zoom speech blasting from my laptop competing with the sounds of my boys fighting over legos in the background.

• No more clacking of the keyboard to respond in the chat, or the slicing sounds of turning a textbook page.

It’s just been the comforting sounds of home. There’s the hum and squeal of the dishwasher and washing machines. The clicks of Junior’s claws as he trots through the house. The sound of passing cars outside. (And of course, the unpleasant sounds of home… like my exasperation when I find Sander relieving himself in the yard. Potty training is a nightmare.)

The quiet really struck it home that there are no more deadlines to meet or superiors to impress.

It’s over.

I don’t know what to do in this quiet season of the unknown.

But I am curious.