The End

It’s the end of all undergraduate classes ever. Now all I have left is one in-class and two take-home finals. If necessary, these can be accomplished within sixteen hours.

I think I ought to be nostalgic, taking bright afternoon photos of the buildings that have come to mean learning, but mostly what I feel is tired. Of course I’ll look back…but not too often and not with sepia-toned fondness. If I want to remember the campus, I’ll remember without a photograph. My professors I’ll miss , and my housemates most, but not the hard blue chairs with attached desks or the overhead projector in Shawnee Hall 102. Not mailroom Box #60178 at the end of the cold aisle with no cellphone service, and not the basement of the library that leaks in the rain. Not the price of textbooks or any trappings of scholasticism. Not Shawnee, Oklahoma, and not August 2004 to May 2008. Good bye, fare well, the end.

This cannot be profound. Every senior must have felt this.

Bah, I can’t muse very well right now. I have no pensive psychological distance; my perspective is still too narrow. Suffice it to say I feel faintly guilty that I’m so happy to go.