I had my last exam this morning.
By this point I feel like I’ve been banging on about exams for months. Isn’t that always the way? You do one exam and it’s fine. Two and it’s better, by three it’s dragging on and four you’re just thinking Oh for the love of Chaucer let the semester end. I had that this morning as I wrote about globalization. 90 minutes for an essay, it seems excessive to me. Still it was nice to afford 30 seconds here and there to think.
I calculated I’m going to have to write maybe 10,000 words this weekend to get up to speed on my NaNoWriMo. Every year it’s a little bit of a contest, see how fast I can finish. My first year I finished November 23. Last year, November 29. You see what I’m getting at.
I had to check on where I’m at with my degree, so I had a helpful helper do a degree plan thing. My major is fine. My minor is fine. My Gen Ed is fine. I just need three more papers. “You can do any three papers from any subject at any level,” the girl said. I drew in a breath, awed. “Any three?” I whispered back, afraid to break the spell. Afraid to hear that I might have to do This and That and The Other.
I left in a daze and came home, where I’m typing this now. I studied the possibilities. Languages. More English. Anthropology. Classics. And 30 more choices. Also, I’m not convinced that it’s really 3:20 p.m., but four timepieces say so. I’m guessing that it must be.