After a night of drunken typing, I only have 5 essays left. Yes!

The number 13 burns brightly in my mind. On May 12, I take my last final. On May 13, I’m free.

Of course, I’m well-aware that upon completing college, I’ll feel a kind of emptiness. I’ll be like, “This is it?” Unlike Super Mario Galaxy, I won’t even have a lame bonus level to complete. Oh wait, never mind, this is exactly like SMG: I have a stupid graduation ceremony to listen through. (Note: May want to do some type of protest when Speaker Pelosi is there and if Obama administration has not released torture memos yet.) Luckily, I have another goal lined up: Work on TCM.

Blargh. I’ve been feeling really anxious lately. All these essays I have yet to do weigh heavily in my mind. I can’t really have fun; they’re like oppressive black clouds hovering in the background. Honestly, I just want to crawl into a ball and give up. I don’t want to write anything anymore.

But let’s put this into perspective. In less than 1 month, I will be done. No more philosophy, history, whatever essays. I no longer have to write dull, uninspiring regurgitations. One month of suffering, of dark clouds, and then there is light.

Last semester, I had a lot more pages to write when it was finals time. Last semester, I didn’t have senior option for one of my classes. This semester will be easier than last semester. I was not anxious last semester; I felt calm despite the work. Should I not be less anxious now?

I just have to keep my eye on the prize, so to speak. Keep staring at that circled day, May 13. That precious day when I get back my freedom.