For better or for worse, however the dice may fall, I just finished my last test for my last class this term.
I feel like there's something strangely foreboding about calling a cumulative test a Final. A Final what? Is this the end? Is this a Pheonix-rebirth metaphor, or a symbolic death that I will never recover from? It's the finality of the word that is getting to me this time.
With the last goal having been achieved, there is a certain listlessness that is setting in, a sort of disorientation that seems overwhelming. There is no shortage of things that I can (and will) be doing for the next month, and the whole process will repeat again soon enough anyway, so the miniature reprieve almost seems like a cheat, or a false sense of hope before having to dive back into the fray again.
My final Final may be complete, but what that means for the long term - or even for just today - is somewhat lost on me.
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