My hands are sore as fuck. I think I’m going to have a bruise on that finger.
Well I guess the worst is over but boy did it come at a price… I bombed out of a couple of my best subjects, which is disappointing, but… Oh well.
I kept lapsing into wistful awake-dreams while I was working like a psycho in the library those long hours that everything would go just fine, and it was all over and we were up to the fun bit.
But I also dreamt that I was a lot older than I am now, and none of this even mattered.
I also dreamt about all the wackos I sat next to and dreams where all my ancient history, French and English characters made a big postmodern mess in my head. It was exhausting sorting them all out again.
I can’t believe how close we are to the end.
Then again, I can’t believe how far I still am from finishing, after all I’ve done.