My life has always been measured in semesters. How strange to know that now my life will be measured in days, or weeks, or months. Maybe it will be measured by seasons or by rainy days. Maybe it will be measured by how long a stack of wood lasts, or by how many times I mow. Maybe it will be measured in how many books I read, or how many pages I scrap. Maybe it will be measured by how many things I knit or crochet.
I don't know how this new life will be. I've always worked. I'm both excited and scared. There is always the possibility that this will be too much freedom, too little structure. We'll see.