As my rather light-hearted blog post the other day mentioned, I have now had my last teaching session at uni. And whilst I am all those things I said I would be: excited to read something deliciously trashy and enjoy it; excited to not be the font of all knowledge regarding ‘the classics’; I am also very sad to be coming to the end of my degree.
After 22nd May, I will have handed in my dissertation which is my last piece of academic work at university. And there is something that I find terrifying about that, and the main thing I think is that for however many years of my life have been spent learning. I always enjoyed school and worked hard, and certainly since G.C.S.Es made a concerted effort to work properly, so that is at least seven years spent striving for the best I can do. To leave that behind is frankly scary.
So scary, in fact, I’ve already announced to my boyfriend that I’m going to pick up where I left off (or a lot further back, I suspect) regarding practising for grade 8 piano. I stopped in AS Levels when my teacher told me I needed to be practising scales alone for a good three hours a night, and I realised I didn’t actually have three hours to spare.
I know I will find myself a job, and I know that it will involve a lot of learning, even when I’m properly settled in. But until then, I can’t help but cling to the methods of assessment I know – exams, handing in essays and receiving a mark out of 100. I wonder if that feeling will ever go away?