It is a time of year, I have found, in which it is easy to be disappointed.
Despite my best efforts to stay organized and ahead of work, like so many others I know, from now until the end of the semester I will limp forward, finishing the semester with a dull gasp of relief, rather than a vocal cheer of huzzah. I can smell spring, literally, as crocuses and daffodils push through the damp earth in my part of the country.
I never needed anyone to do my homework for me until I got a part-time job in college.
Good thing I did my research and chose this website to outsource all the essays.
I’ve been using their services for a year now, and they have never let me down.
When I realized I couldn’t keep up with football practice and essays, I decided to hire someone to complete the homework for me.It was the moment of realization, of my concluded studies “hitting home.” I realized that something that I had grasped at for so long was finally mine, that I had finished graduate school. The moment is not as intense as it was the year I defended, but it is of the same ilk.A quietness, very real and never imagined, descends on campus the moment exams have concluded. A silence descends on campus that screams for me to reflect upon the past year, the classes I have taught, the students I have encountered, the colleagues, near and far, that I have relied upon.We are reaching the time of year that I think of as the season of the anticlimax, the time when long-anticipated moments finally arrive and leave many of us with a vaguely unsettled feeling.It is the time of year when theses will be filed, dissertations defended, and degrees conferred.But, if I allow myself to be quiet, I also realize how many things have been accomplished since that bright day in August when the academic year began.And it is too soon to think about the next bright day in August.But I have learned to carve out time to be alone, to lie on my porch and go on very long solo bike rides.That is my way of ending the year, the way I like to deal with conclusion of another academic season, the way that I prepare for the very different routines of summer.The smell of spring is not so much of the flowers though as the raw, damp earth that they upturn in their bloom.And with that smell I begin to believe, for the first time in a long time, almost as a physiological response to the change of seasons, that the end of the semester will actually arrive, that my students and I will survive to see it.