Graduate

It's the end of an era. Today marked the formal completion of my degree, and the end of one chapter in my life [insert over-dramatisation here]. Strangely, the feelings I had were largely ones of great relief to be finished with the place, rather than sadness at losing these fun times and friendships (and of course this over-arching tiredness that permeates my every day at the moment). As the commitments of a full-time year wear on, perhaps I will wistfully remember the lazy structure of Fridays off, 10 o'clock starts, and when the hardest thing I had to do was write an essay. Things were so simple then, locked away in the 'Faulty Towers' reality of academia. If only the life of a perpetual student could generate an income!

The ceremony itself was one of expensive photos, old-worldly garments and much doffing (but enjoyable enough). As I held my certificate in my hands, the thought occurred to me that I was holding the culmination of every long-winded essay I'd ever written, every hour spent researching in the library, every late night finishing an assignment, every mid-semester break spent cramming readings and tasks, every afternoon of chilling in the Student Union, every lecture and tute attended. Everyone was fussing about it, and congratulating me. But I felt like it was just the natural progression. It was formally labelled an 'award', but surely it's more like an earning. This is the wages of my four years of work... one piece of paper and employability.