Final Boss

13 weeks of intermittent study, blery eyed trips down the Eastern Freeway, reasonably mild weather (yeah I mention the weather a bit, but at my uni the weather counts), missed tutes, unopened text books, and one blog are over.

Showing up late in the semester means two things, i) no trouble parking, and ii) the sense of community you feel in witnessing the same look of faint relief in the faces of everyone else who has just been to their last tute for a subject, the last lecture, handed in the last assignment.

By this stage, the same teensters who showed up first week in their hipsters, are now cold and fluey looking, replete in bad hair and last years trackpants. Nothing says 'Uni has broken me' quite like getting around looking like you have just returned from a camping trip.

The same mid-March sun that warmed them and assured them their year twelve of drinking and a mid 60's final score was going to work out alright has turned into an early-June sting of 1,500 30% assignments and mindless cramming ahead of the upcoming exam period.

I have three exams over the coming month, all well spaced, allowing me maximum panic time before each.