Why does the end of the semester mean endless hours upon hours sitting, sitting, sitting in the library: writing, writing, writing? In the last two weeks, I've written over 100 pages of academic research. That's 8 pages a day. Don't think that's a lot? Do you know how much reading, outlining, and revising 8 pages of research writing requires?
It's ridiculous.
That being said, I'm starting to get some of my grades back. All the 4pm to 2am torture sessions of sitting and writing and reading and sitting and writing and sitting have come to some fruition, and I believe I have been pretty successful.
Yes, I am bragging.
The semester is practically over. I have three finals left, and ample time to study for them and take them without sacrificing sleep, exercise, and human relationships in order to marginally finish within the time period I have been given. I feel relaxed. I will soon be completely done, and then: summer. Freedom!
FREEDOM!
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