Reflections (and Panic)

Apparently I neither write, draw or blog much when on vacation.  Shame – that is what I am supposed to do during those days off.  Instead, I read.  And I read to the point in which I start losing sleep.  Sense I make?  None.

Anyhow, classes start up again on Tuesday and that always prompts a bit of melancholy-esque reflections for me.  Yes, I tend to reflect on my life/year right before the fall semester.  Yes, that’s bloody insane, I know.  New Years has no import to me – the beginning of the fall semester is actually the beginning of my new year.  It’s strange, but I have always felt that way.  (My birthday, for those interested, occurred just after the end of the school year up until I started university, which ends before May, and, thus, my birthday now ends up near the middle of the break.)

This year could have been the last year in which I have a proper end and beginning.  While my credit count says that I’m entering my second semester of my third year, I have enrolled in eight semesters – four years.  No, I am not entering my ‘fifth’ year of study – I’m entering my fourth.  No, I didn’t take three or four classes in the fall/winter semesters and picked up the slack in the summer.  I’m a co-op student; when I worked, I was gaining credits.  Well, one credit a work term.  (A completely useless number – the U of R uses the three-credits-per-class system (since there are three lecture hours a week per class) and there are four work terms required.  I’m going to end up graduating with a minimum of one extra credit.)  So, needless to say, if I had just gone off to acquire a standard B.Sc., I would be out in the work world in eight short months.

Cue panic.

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