It’s Tuesday. But somewhere in the world, it has to be Monday still. And if not, then somewhere, it used to be Monday. So, basically what I’m saying is that I’m not actually posting a day late (read: a month late). Somewhere, somehow, I’m still right on time.
Time is a funny thing. Sometimes a hilarious thing, sometimes a bizarre thing, sometimes an enormously painful thing, sometimes a healing thing. Lately it’s been an all-of-the-above thing, and it’s been absolutely zooming by on me.
I graduated this month with my first degree. I am now full of socially-commended bs because I now hold a BSc. I’ve been working towards the idea of this degree for so long that it seems utterly unreal that I’ve accomplished it. Trust me when I tell you that me actually attaining this four-year degree in only four years is nothing short of an absolute miracle. The choices I personally made and the choices forced upon me during these last four years made the route to this degree the most complex, challenging, and unlikely route possible. And yet… June 1, 2009 still saw me walk up on stage in my purple high heels to accept my diploma, even though June 1, 2008 saw me in the Registrar’s office, as he informed me that there was no possible way I would be able to fit all my required courses for my last year into my schedule.
3 cheers for tenacity, for creativity, for seeking help, for minor meltdowns, for new friends met in unexpected places, for unlikely supporters, for moms, for 18-hour days of studying, for too much coffee and too little food, for biblios that are a second home. Here’s to all those lab reports, finished 5 minutes before they were due, with results that make no sense at all, but maybe, with a little bit of luck, your prof would be so awed by your pretty graphs that he wouldn’t notice your dismal rendement. Here’s to bus buddies, to le Noyau, to locker partners, to profs who chat with you for hours and offer to help you with your research. Here’s to Monday hamburgers after Chimie physique labos. Here’s to emergency rides in the morning when the bus is just one thing too much to handle. Here’s to my Friday Family and the only reason I survived staying at school every Friday until 5PM. Here’s to mosquitoes drowned in beakers! Here’s to grad gowns and diplomas, champagne and tequila shots, and the sense of relief and despair that you did it, but you’ll miss it all so much.
Here’s to us, grads.