It is March and patches of yellow have been springing forth, brightening up the usual bus ride to school. The daffodils wave to me in the cold breeze, almost promising warmer weather to come.
Just two weeks of classes left before we break... forever. From mid-March to mid-April, I will be sweltering under the weight of two term papers, and then after that, the dissertation, due in September. But classes will officially be over soon. How odd it is to no longer have to go to school and sit in a classroom. Just one year ago, how excited (and anxious) I was to turn in my applications. And now, how much I have learnt over these seven months.
The library's full of undergrads whacking out their papers but soon it'll just be me and other postgrad students, and it will be quiet for once, all of us surrounded by books and papers and typing furiously on laptops, questions on our minds , questions being typed out, questions being answered.
And that question still remains - and then what? What's going to happen after September, I wish I could say. I wish I could put that thought out of my head but it's always there in the back, somewhere, lurking, ready to slip out of the shadows.