One Last Time | The Last Year of University Pt. 1

the short storyI have a minor (and possibly the first of many) panic attack about my last year of university.

And yes…the Hamilton reference was intended and entirely necessary.

the long story

There’s a strange sort of nostalgia and panic that comes over me whenever Labour Day rolls around. I wish it could be because I was hopping on a train to a school for magical youth where it is very likely I might die because the headmaster was disturbingly ignorant in his appointment of DADA professors.

No, I’m not going back to Hogwarts, but I am going back to school.

I narrowly avoided this panic last year at a co-op work term, working in my field of study while earning cash and credits. (Side note: if your school offers a co-op program I highly recommend it. You get a much needed break from lectures and even more needed experience and contacts in your field of interest.)

And while I loved my time as a co-op student…it’s sort of fed into the nostalgia/panic now.

See, I haven’t been a full-time student for 16 months. I haven’t even taken courses on the side. I’ve just been working. So I’m a little out of touch with study habits and note-taking and test writing.

And if that weren’t enough to scare me off, it’s going to be my last year of university.

That’s right! I’m graduating in a year!



Am I overreacting? Possibly.

But considering the fact that I’m doing a full course load (29 credits) and moving out to live on my own for the first time in my life…can we panic now.gif

I can’t really complain about the moving out thing because it was my decision. My parents would tie me to the house if they could.

I’ve thought about moving closer to campus since my first year ended. Commuting between school and home could equal up to 4 hours of my day commuting on public transit. For a five-day school week, that’s twenty hours lost to commute–a whole day in waking hours!

While it set aside time for me to read and listen to audiobooks and podcasts, it left me exhausted, waking up early and coming home late, with no social life, extracurriculars, or emotional stamina. So moving out seemed like a good option for my final year.

So yeah, the pressure’s on. And for your reading pleasure and my personal posterity, I’m chronicling my last year of undergraduate school here. I’ll make posts on my courses, living on my own, preparing for graduation, and just general shenanigans.

And by shenanigans, I mostly mean staying up late with a cup of coffee.



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