To borrow a bit from Mr. Banks of Mary Poppins, I feel a surge of deep satisfaction. In preparing for my finals this week (yes, I know that [insert school name here] has been done for two weeks), the opportunity to take several brief pauses to wonder what it all means (of course, as I said before, I have developed a pretty good idea of what it all means) is an opportunity I have not squandered. At face value, the mere fact that I have completed my undergraduate collegiate work at the University of Iowa would seem to be the source of said deep satisfaction. Rest assured, it is not. I am extremely proud to have endured four years of higher education, and those of you who know me only so well will know that I am have been extremely successful at school. I am proud of that success.

What give me this satisfaction? Simply, as I have mentioned before, I HATE having expectations placed upon me by others, and, as far as I can tell, this is the last of the big expectations I have met for the pleasure of others. All the time I spent wondering why I continued at school when I was entirely unhappy with it is now irrelevant. I have finished it. The world will now open up to me like an oyster, no, more like a magnificent. . .