|the first stage of grief (is denial)
||[Apr. 27th, 2016|12:47 am]
Today was my last day of classes. Ever.
(Presumably. And, ok, there's still the bar course but I mean like regular classes ok?)
It's... Very surreal. Like, I think it's one of those things where it's so...big...that your defensive mechanisms kick in and you can't really...process it. IDK.
(Also, everyone is like "oh congrats! you must be so happy to be done!" and I'm like "...not...really?" (I mean, ffs guys. Now we have to go and have fucking full time jobs with no comparatively no vacation time and likely long hours. How the bloody fuck is that better? Like I was talking to a friend and she was like "YES I'm so sick of this place" and it's like...I feel like you're an alien. Or I'm an alien. Or something. Like, ok, in grade school/high school I get it - you have a lot of stuff you don't want to deal with shoved at you (like...math) but here you don't even have GEs! You're doing law-related stuff; you're studying (mostly) interesting things! Plus you get vacations and you're only actually in class like a few hours a day and, after first year, not even every day...Like, what do you want?) And then when you tell people you're not actually happy to graduate they look at you all scandalized because you're breaking the ~socially accepted pattern of this conversation. And I'm like. IDGAF. I'm not happy and I'm not gonna pretend I am.)
And this has turned into a much longer post than I expected.