Final year, final semester

I’ve just started week 3 of my final semester as an undergraduate and I am stressed. So what better way to ignore my exponentially growing heap of work and commitments than to write a blog about it all?
(I’ll never learn….)

I have vague memories of being a doe-eyed fresher and hearing stories from third years about the demanding work load of final year. But I don’t think I really stopped to think about it though or try to process what would be expected of me in a few years time.

In the next 7 weeks, I have to submit a 10,000 word dissertation, a 2500 word essay, prepare to lead a seminar discussion on my own for 2 hours, write up and hand in my Sheffield Graduate Award, help to organise the Union’s Volunteering Awards and attempt to maintain some sort of social life. Oh, and keep applying for graduate jobs and attempt to take inevitable rejections on the chin. And try to pick up some hours at work so I can save some money and not be poor when I graduate.

I’m not saying this to create a competition of who-can-be-the-most-busy or who-can-be-the-most-dedicated, I’m saying it to remind my friends and any possible final years who may be reading that it’s ok, you’re not the only one. It’s perfectly normal to be having a mid-semester crisis, but all the effort will be worth something in the end. (I guess I’m also kind of reiterating how busy I am to convince my parents that I’m actually not perpetually hungover and do go to my lectures).

I often find myself being nostalgic for first year, but I think that’s another thing we all do. I used to spend my Saturday mornings dragging my duvet into the living room so I could spend the day doing nothing but wallow with my flatmates over our collective feeling of sickness. It was fun, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. But now, I’m attempting to take my workload in my stride and actually try to be asleep before midnight. I guess it’s just good practice for the working world, right?

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