As of 4pm today, I took my last final and essentially stopped being an undergrad. My degree will have the official graduation date on it, and grades aren’t in, but I’m not going to commencement, and I’m pretty sure I pulled a 4.0 this semester, so as far as I’m concerned, I am a baccalaureate.
I don’t particularly care about any of that, but I would like to say that I took four literature courses this semester and still managed to read 26.5 books not for school. I say half because I’m still in the middle of two others, but I’ve read about 300 pages of them in total. I’ve never really been that great at managing my time, but apparently I am now, because the only thing I sucked at this semester was a social life. Otherwise, I read a spectacular amount of books, did all my homework, caught two colds, got e.coli, held down three jobs for approximately 35 hours a week, took 15 units of class, worked out two or three days a week, got a decent score on the GRE, applied to grad schools, started a weekly volunteer job, and still stayed current with way too many television shows. All this while learning to become a morning person and scarcely sleeping fewer than seven hours a night. (I didn’t do a lot of writing, but I wasn’t trying to. I mostly thought and outlined, and now I’m excited to have the time to dedicate to writing.) So, that being said, anyone who says they don’t have time to read is full of shit. Sorry.