Tomorrow is my last day of school.
It is also the first time I'll be saying that without knowing I'll be back at school after summer vacation. I have such a mix of emotions inside of me right now that it is truly impossible for me to explain everything I'm feeling in words.
Surreal seems like one of the most appropriate word choices to describe my feelings towards this chapter's ending.
There had been many long nights, days, wee hours of the mornings when I'd cursed school to no end. There were essays I dreaded writing and exams that I walked into with the utmost terror (not to mention messy bun, bags under my eyes, sweatpants and hoodie attire.)
As a well-practiced procrastinator, many of my essay-related experiences involved me... My bedroom. My two best friends on Skype (you know who you are.) At least five cups of espresso. Facebook. YouTube. Papers. Notes. Garbage can full of notes. My nearby clock (ever-so politely displaying hour after excruciating hour pass by.) Some tears. Many body stretches. Many long glances around my room which turned into daydreams which often turned into two-three minute naps. I can't forget the glorious sunrise in all of this. Because I'd be lying if I said that most of my work was not completed (or in the final stages of completion) with the motivation of that beautiful sun rising. It is here where I thank my printer for pulling through. It is my belief that few people know the true pleasure of hitting the "Print" button until they've been through university.
Then there were the exams. Hours and hours of lectures, homework and studying widdled down into a two hour exam that really mostly tests your ability to control your nerves in such a case and remember just about... well, everything.
Lectures. There were certain lectures that I've blocked and erased from my mind completely. Lectures that were about two hours and 45 minutes too long. Lectures where I recorded about one line of notes but successfully organized my iTunes library, or pulled off a silent skype conversation with a friend, or beat eight consecutive solitaire games in a row, or even lectures where I spent most of my time texting and flirting with a certain someone.
So all this complaining. I should be happy to go. I should be running out the doors. Right? But as I sit here at 2:45 in the morning thinking about how this may be the last time I express, "I should get to bed soon... I have an early class" I also think about the good experiences, too.
I remember the first really, really good essay I ever wrote. It was in my Mass Communications class in first year. It was about Barbie and how I supported her rather than tear her down like most others do. I loved that essay and damn, I did well on it. I remember by first Public Relations class with Richard and how everything he described in that class seemed to scream, "Meltab!" I remember the reassuring feeling I felt that day - like I was on the right track or something.
While I can't really put my finger on a "fun" exam, I do chuckle thinking about some of the stresses I went through prior to some midterms. Frantically texting with classmates... desperately flipping through notes after notes and units after units trying to discover what certain terms meant... I also remember that feeling of finally being able to flip over the exam booklet and quickly skim the questions in the exam. I loved the feeling I'd get when I knew answers... recognized words and terms...
Yes, some lectures were difficult to get through but I'd have to say that most of them were pretty great. I was lucky to have quite a few professors who are true gems and I'll remember those special ones forever probably. I loved when our whole class would get involved in a deep discussion. As a group of public relations students, we tend to be a vocal crowd. Yes, there were definitely some lash-outs and probably name-callings along the way, but when these moments happened they always made class exciting.
I suppose one of the things I'll miss most about being a student is this lifestyle. The very lifestyle I sometimes hated. The very lifestyle that kept me up and caused countless all-nighters. The very lifestyle that caused me to step out of my house looking like a zombie. The very lifestyle that had made me repeat to myself so many times... "just three more years..." "just two more years, you're half way..." "just one more year, you're almost done..." to... tonight. "One more day."
The "school" aspect of school has definitely played it's hand, but being a student has also been all I've known my whole life. After tomorrow, I will no longer be a student. I'll eventually be an intern and then one day an employee... or a traveller or a blogger or an owner or... something.
I don't know. I do not know what the future holds and I suppose that is one of the thrilling parts of all this, too. Throughout my whole life I've always been a student and always left school knowing I'd soon be back to continue being a student. That chapter will be over by tomorrow at 3:20 pm and a new adventurous one will begin. It's scary, exiting, sad, satisfying, gratifying... surreal.
So here's to the last of so many blog posts I've written in the middle of the night, instead of doing other things (like sleeping) to better prepare myself for school tomorrow. Thank you so much for reading and being a part of this night and perhaps all the others you have read about.
Here's to this past chapter. Here's to school and being lucky enough to attend it.
And better yet... here's to the next chapter.