Today I had my last two undergraduate classes.
It’s weird to think that I may never have to go to class again. I’m still planning to get a Master’s at some point, but I don’t have any definite plans and it might never happen. For sixteen years, class is almost all I’ve known, and now it’s over.
I can’t help but think about my first day of Kindergarten. I remember standing at the end of our dead-end street, where the kids on our road met the bus. Both my parents were there to see me off. I guess the school recommended that they make a name tag with bus numbers and other information, because I remember consulting it as the bus approached to make sure I was getting on the right one (as if my parents would send me away on the wrong bus). I really don’t remember anything past that, though I assume my friend Paul was on the bus, because he was the stop before me.
I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that this quarter is already over, let alone the four years leading up to it, not to speak of the twelve years before that. Almost the entirety of my life has been leading up to this moment - well, really, this week.
How anticlimactic. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so underwhelmed.