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windemereFREEDOM!!!!
::coughs:: Alright, enough of my Wallace impressions. But it rather sums up the whole thing.
Or will, in 16 days, when it will actually be freedom, in that I will actually be living in the Real World as opposed to the Acedemic World, as opposed to the I Do This Because I Don't Know How To Do Anything Else World.
I'm not even making sense to myself anymore. This is worrying. ::looks concerned for five seconds:: Oh, it's so not worth the effort anymore.
It is Novemeber 30, which happens to be a Thursday this year, and since I haven't had Friday classes since Third Year, it also means it's the last day of the semester (since Monday classes are cancelled, yeah!).
And though I write finals the 7, 12 and 16, they are only about...oh, 4 hours out of my life, which at the end isn't really worth thinking about.
The point is (yes, there really is one, I'm just not quite in my right mind right now so it's taking awhile to get to it) is that, despite exams, this means that as of Today, I graduate.
Finally.
So, all in all, it is a rather good day. Which ended on the note of giving perhaps the best presentation of my Bachelors career, or at least I hope Freed thinks so, since the rest of the class did, and then skipping my last class because I would rather commit suicide than listen to that...excuse for a prof...ever talk again. Also, it would have single-handedly ruined my otherwise good day. Which would have defeated the entire purpose.
Lied to Freed for the third time in 7 days. And she bought it. Again. This is getting far too easy.
Also, if I would like to screw my entire future up and stay on at Laurier for a one year Masters in Mediterranean Societies, I will get in no problem. In the department of incentive...this sucks. But Freed keeps asking. Why does she want more work, I wonder? She doesn't have time to do what she already has. ::adds confusion to her current state of mind::
New Year's Resolution: Stop watching Stargate Atlantis. It's frying what few brain cells you have left.
I'm going now. Far away. Where I can't hurt anyone. Hopefully it will have padded walls because I feel the need to hit something...a lot, and would prefer not to break every bone in my hand while doing so. Of course, doing that probably won't get me out of the asylum any time soon.
Oh well.
::coughs:: Alright, enough of my Wallace impressions. But it rather sums up the whole thing.
Or will, in 16 days, when it will actually be freedom, in that I will actually be living in the Real World as opposed to the Acedemic World, as opposed to the I Do This Because I Don't Know How To Do Anything Else World.
I'm not even making sense to myself anymore. This is worrying. ::looks concerned for five seconds:: Oh, it's so not worth the effort anymore.
It is Novemeber 30, which happens to be a Thursday this year, and since I haven't had Friday classes since Third Year, it also means it's the last day of the semester (since Monday classes are cancelled, yeah!).
And though I write finals the 7, 12 and 16, they are only about...oh, 4 hours out of my life, which at the end isn't really worth thinking about.
The point is (yes, there really is one, I'm just not quite in my right mind right now so it's taking awhile to get to it) is that, despite exams, this means that as of Today, I graduate.
Finally.
So, all in all, it is a rather good day. Which ended on the note of giving perhaps the best presentation of my Bachelors career, or at least I hope Freed thinks so, since the rest of the class did, and then skipping my last class because I would rather commit suicide than listen to that...excuse for a prof...ever talk again. Also, it would have single-handedly ruined my otherwise good day. Which would have defeated the entire purpose.
Lied to Freed for the third time in 7 days. And she bought it. Again. This is getting far too easy.
Also, if I would like to screw my entire future up and stay on at Laurier for a one year Masters in Mediterranean Societies, I will get in no problem. In the department of incentive...this sucks. But Freed keeps asking. Why does she want more work, I wonder? She doesn't have time to do what she already has. ::adds confusion to her current state of mind::
New Year's Resolution: Stop watching Stargate Atlantis. It's frying what few brain cells you have left.
I'm going now. Far away. Where I can't hurt anyone. Hopefully it will have padded walls because I feel the need to hit something...a lot, and would prefer not to break every bone in my hand while doing so. Of course, doing that probably won't get me out of the asylum any time soon.
Oh well.
