My exams are over. But I don’t feel necessarily that great. The atmosphere around me, in Currie Hall, is still relatively tense, as most haven’t ended their exams.
People expect me to feel great: because my exams are over; because the pressure’s off; because I can do whatever I want; because I’m free.
I, too — sometimes — expect to feel that way.
Why, then, do I not?
For the most part I’m just pretending to be as happy as I am. I try to play the role. I have an obligation to show others what ending one’s exam should be like.
The examinations cocoon you in the world of academia, and you are given a license to ignore the rest of the world. But the moment you end your examinations, you realise that that’s the time you have to start thinking of problems beyond.
And when most of your friends are busy studying for exams when you’re not? It’s awkward. And uncomfortable.
They envy me.
I envy them.
(People may not be as happy as you think they are.)