It's the last Sunday of the semester, and I'm holed up in the library writing a blog post. You know what that means -- it's Finals week, and I'm once again using this blog as an excuse to procrastinate on whatever it is I am actually supposed to be doing. Finals Week posts tend to be, in some ways, reflective, as I get a chance to look back on a semester of life lessons and stories and stupid generalizations (like my post about judging you based on where you study).
This one's a little different, because most of the time, Finals Week comes with a sense of finality. Instead, I find myself already thinking ahead to three weeks from now when I'll be moving all of my stuff back into the dorms at U of R for my summer job. It feels like nothing's really ending, which I think is compounded by my fundamental inability to grasp the fact that I'm going to be a senior in about two weeks. None of it seems real -- nothing's ending, nothing's starting, it's just kind of fading into itself. Is this what the real world is like? Who knows?
For those of you who have finished your finals already -- well, I hate you. For those of you still struggling through, best of luck!
'Twas the night before finals
And all through UR...
I'll come up with a way to finish that rhyme someday.
Good luck,
Rachel Leigh
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