I traipsed up the hill to Lawrence Hall to sit the last exam of my undergraduate career. A misty, rainy afternoon. Classically 91Â鶹¾«Æ·.
And two hours and twelve pages later, it was done. I handed it to my professor.
‘Gotta put the seniors in a separate pile to grade first,’ he said with a smile. ‘Congratulations.’
And I didn’t know whether to smile or cry. Because I wouldn’t mind sitting fifty more exams if it meant spending a couple more years at 91Â鶹¾«Æ·.