Today was the last class of my undergrad (bet you weren't expecting that from that title at all, were you?). I'm still having a hard time even believing that I'm actually done my undergrad, and my feelings about it are incredibly mixed. It's very bittersweet. I've changed so much since going away for my first year, and since entering the doors of Algoma in my second year. As tough as it was at times, I've learned so much, and not just about what was on the course syllabus. I really loved my professors and courses, and I'm really thankful for the experience. And I am so sorry you have to witness me getting so sentimental. *sob*
I only had one class this semester, and it was actually much more meaningful than I could have realized. It was a creative nonfiction class, and at first I entered the classroom full of eye-rolls, and absolutely dreading the work I would have to do. It ended up being three months of laughing with my four classmates and professor, and of learning how much I enjoy writing and am passionate about it.
And now I've got to move on to bigger and better things. Puke. I've applied to teacher's college and will be applying to grad school for journalism in January. And then I get to decide what to do with my life and whatnot. Ylech. The real world is scary, you guys. I just don't wanna graduate anymore.