I cried in my professor's office yesterday. I tried so hard to make it stop. When I felt the tears stinging the corners of my eyes on the brink of overflowing, I bit into my lower lip thinking that the pain from that would distract me from the tears. But I couldn't help it. The little girl in me needed a release, and unfortunately it happened at the mostt inappropriate moment. All of the frustration I have from this whole NYU thesis process bubbled to the surface after a meeting that was both a success and a complete nightmare. And I could feel this poor man in front of me tense, not knowing what to do, or if he should even do anything. I wiped and sniffled and tried to make it stop. It was brief, I'll admit, but trying to talk through the tears and explain that it wasn't him, it was me, I was a total wreck and he was perfectly great. It was exactly like I would imagine a break-up conversation unfolding, the one in tears trying to hold on to those last shreds of pride while the other sits in silent confusion unsure of what to do and you happen to be blocking their only escape route. Usually after a cry I feel better, this time I don't. There are so many tears left to be cried and I am certain they will be, but I can't sit around and wait for them. There are papers to be written and approvals to be received and boxes to be shipped and theater to be seen and good-byes to be made. I think I can schedule a release sometime around June 1st. Until then, if it happens in fron of you, I'll try and at least not block the door.