The Beginning of the End

It’s weird to think that a year ago I was taking my last undergraduate exam.  Afterward I threw up magnificently for several hours, but I think that had nothing to do with exams and everything to do with eating expired applesauce for breakfast.  It just seems like it was sooner than a whole year ago.  I can still smell the excitement of the end of school, just like every May, but magnified times a billion by the relief of completion.  It’s done, 18 years in the making, school is finally done.  Except for some reason I wanted to go back, add some more on top of that.  So instead of breathing in the freedom of The End, I’m trying to motivate myself to finish the last essays before a summer of thesis-writing.  Still, at least I picked a country where Master’s degrees only take a year, and in September it will be The Real End, also known as The Real Beginning, when I can’t hide behind the comfortable excuse of “Student” anymore.
It’s about time, anyway.
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