Sweaty palms, heavy heart beats and the shakes. I've been refreshing this page all morning. All week in fact, and still there is no change.
I’m waiting for my final semesters results, and indeed my degree classification. The climax of five years of my life is at stake here..
It doesn’t help that I'm at work right now, constantly looking over my shoulder lest someone should see what I'm actually looking up, and start asking me questions about it. If I have failed, or even fallen short of the mark, I probably want to be able to save face for at least a while until I've come to terms with the result in my own head.. But everyone will find out sooner or later.
Still nothing. I can vaguely remember sitting the exams.
I had worked myself into a relatively strong position after Februarys exams - I was sitting on my target of a decent 2.1, with the chance of getting a first only really available by an Act of God.
But I can remember not really trying at all in the second semester. In fact, I am currently entertaining thoughts that I don't really even deserve my target grade. Maybe I haven't done enough. Maybe my project is going to bring me down. Maybe I've failed something.
Maybe seems to be the word which defines this situation pretty well. Maybe, but Maybe Not.
My stomach is twisted into a couple of well formed knots- it feels like it could reject the toast and orange juice which I force fed myself an hour and a half ago.
Still nothing.. well wait.. it didn't quite look like this the last time That button wasn’t there.. in fact there is more stuff here.. More numbers. Not as many as I was expecting, but this is it. The moment of truth.. And there it is, right at the top of the page, 2.1. All of sudden I've got a smile across my face which would make Dwight Yorke jealous. What was all that worrying for?!
Perspective time. Looking back on the other morning, I can see that that grade, whilst a good reward for five years of hard slog doesn’t matter.
If I hadn’t got it, I probably would have been gutted because I have put so much into the last year of my life, but whatever those two little numbers are, you can't take away the journey I’ve had.
You can’t take away the people I’ve met. You can’t take away the things that I’ve done, and the things that have been done to me. Those two little numbers are going to serve me very well on a CV for the future, but I would swap this for anything.
Its been emotional..