I’m going to write using a sport analogy – of a sport I know nothing about. Surely nothing can go wrong, right?
(For the record, I’m not averse to baseball. I just don’t speak it. As far as I know it isn’t a major sport in New Zealand; that would be rugby, and also cricket, but you shouldn’t take my word for it because sports + Sarah = running for books. Books that are not sports books)
Anyway, my real-life decisive victory whatsit would be the final exam. You know the one: you’ve taken your last three exams, you have two grades and you’re waiting on the third to tell you you’ve passed and tipped over into I Have A Degree now. So… I guess it’d be the taking of the exam, preparing for it and eating your brain foods and buying a pack of Rescue Remedy stuff that doesn’t work, and then you go in and take the exam. There’s the last-minute cram session, the pre-exam chatter about this and that…
Seriously, you guys, finding out you’ve got your degree after three fun exams? That is actually my favourite thing.
I think I’ve probably ruined this metaphor enough so I’ll end here.