It’s that time of year again…except for me

March. A month of dark anticipation. The tension filled atmosphere is palpable in the black clouds hovering over the skies. The last weeks of hell. The last month of the school year.

This is season (at least for the student population) of reviews, finals, photocopy notes, night cramming, nerves, cramped wrists, tears, failures, and requirement catch-up sprints.

It only dawned on me this morning that I had graduated last year when I traveled to work with a spring in my step and not a care in the world while all the uniformed young men and women were furiously and intensely going through page after page of scribbled notes streaked with highlights here and there.

Mumbling like crazy people under their breath memorizing dates and names of events they’ll only need to know once in their lives. Eyes either darting left to right or squeezed shut in concentration. They were all breathing heavily as if running a marathon, the lines on their faces multiplied like rabbits on reproductive steroids.

Then slowly, like a rising wave it hit me.

Amidst all the seriousness I had to stop myself from leaping with joy and screaming out loud!

I’M DONE WITH ALL THAT BULLSHIT!

I’M FREE SUCKERS!

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2 Tugon to “It’s that time of year again…except for me”

  1. Congratulations. You deserve it. Unlike me. And everyone else who cannot afford.

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