Rantglass - because that's how things are.

Secret stair.

Secret stair.

That is it, all traces of hope for a first-class honours has just slipped through my grasp. It flickers briefly… then gradually disappears, probably forever.

Sometimes I wonder if a paper of qualification really matters. Still, hearing those rags-to-riches stories gives a fleeting hope – for with it comes a lot of hard work, and possibly a generous dosage of luck. I groan in despair whenever the topic of having to proceed with a masters programme is brought up – which, unfortunately, seems to have become some sort of a regular affair lately. Most are of the opinion that armed with a masters, jobs should come easily your way. The last thing I have to do is to be a student again.

Then some say that in the design field, a degree hardly matters. Good skills, application, and talent. A quick and creative mind. But then, I probably do not possess those traits, so I have to waste my time and my parents’ money for this.

I think it must be the mental exhaustion. There has never been a truly relaxing break for me – one where I need not have to worry of going back to school, of grueling examinations, mounting assignments, unhelpful lecturers. Of course, I can tell that not too soon, there may be even loads to worry about: financial constraints, office politics, traffic jams, various bills, pressures on getting a life partner and other numerous responsibilites.

Could the transition from mere student to full-fledged adult be really that stressful?

Or should the question be: why am I making studying such a traumatic issue?

For the moment, though, I think I have had enough. I think I will just slave through the next few months like a mindless thing. After all, we have been programmed to do it from the start, have we not?

One day, I am going to get about to printing the entries I have posted here on Rantglass and bind them into a book. It would do me little good to spend hours reading from a monitor screen and laugh at myself for being so pathetic at times.

Details of this entry.Wednesday, December 15, 2004, filed under Blogger Archives.
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