I’ve been in Post Sick and Airy Ed (my mom’s word for Post-Secondary Education, or University) of some sort for the past 9 years, struggling to get my undergraduate degree.
You read that right. 9 friggin years. The Fellowship of the Baccalaureate! Longer and more pedantic, with fewer orcs.
It’s finally happened. I applied to graduate today, and I’ll be walking across the stage in January, 2013.
My GPA is a B+, or 3.31. (This is a guesstimate based off what I think the grade is for my final class, which just finished today. Update with actual GPA will occur when my grade gets posted.)
I think that considering I have multiple disabilities, physical and mental, and have dealt with some massive shit-storms of suck over the past 9 years, that a B+ GPA is really damn good for a four-year degree that took me almost 10.
I am incredibly proud of myself right now.
And very grateful. Because I never would have made it through this long slog if it weren’t for some special people. They are, in no particular order:
- Kaimana Wolff, my mom. She has supported me wholeheartedly through every step of my secondary and post-secondary education, and I am dead sure I would have ended up a high school drop out working [insert horrible, low-paying job of choice here] until I died an early death at the age of 33.
- Egbertine van Loon-Laffra, my oma. She died two years ago this August, but she didn’t stop supporting me once her physical body stopped working. She’s been here with me my whole life and that’s never going to change. Thank you, Oma. I love you and wish you could be here in person to see me walk across the stage to get my degree; I have to believe you’re watching from the Afterlife.
- The Ogre, my boyfriend. Granted, he’s only been present for the last two years of the degree, but the support he’s given has been priceless. Kicking my ass out of bed early in the morning so I can make it to class; kicking my ass back home from visiting him in Vancouver so I don’t miss class; kicking my ass in general. Everyone needs an Ogre on their ass, making sure they don’t fail themselves. I have mine.
- All my friends. Whether you were around for the Community College years (which, by the way, were a lot like the shenanigans portrayed in Community), the MUC/VIU years, or all the years — thank you. For the laughs, the parties, the homework help, the listening ears to my venting. Thank you for everything.
If there’s anyone I’ve missed, I apologize. It wasn’t done on purpose; blame it on post-nine-years-of-school-brain-fatigue.
And for now, I’m off to celebrate.
With a nap.