I'm forty-eight pages, one log book, and 14.5 hours away from the last submission of my undergraduate life. That extra year that I sat and watched my friends graduate and try their wings in the great big post-university world felt incredibly long but also heart stoppingly short. However, if I ever hear anyone mention particle or scanning electron microscope to me again, I will burst into tears.
So tomorrow, when I'm walking down Queens gate, I'm going to feel like I'm carrying a million dollars in my bag. An entire year's worth of blood, sweat, and tears culminating in two copies of my final report and a battered log book. I should probably hire an armoured car.
I'm so done with studying. I've had to scrape the barrel this year in terms of motivation, but it's almost done.
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