I jumped into the uber, politely asked how my driver was doing, and after exchanging pleasantries, he asked me what year I was in.
“Third year.” I said with a polite smile.
“You have to make the most of this year then! After that, it is just work, one day for family, and one day for yourself.” I nodded my head slowly, and let my eyes slip away with the trees outside of the window.
Internally I rolled my eyes. Not because I didn’t believe his line, but because I am tired of this line being regurgitated to me. There is so much pressure lumped onto being in your final year, that it is hard to simply enjoy it the way everyone keeps telling me to.
I hope that within my life, university isn’t the best days I have experienced. I hope my best days are littered throughout my whole life, with meeting new people, overcoming new challenges, and continuing to grow.
Life cannot be over past 22 years old. Obviously, it is not going to be, but why is there this added pressure that the working world looms like some inevitable disaster over my head?
After living the life I have, I emphasise the importance of living every day. Mum taught me to live in the moment, to love hard and to take everything in. Throughout my whole life; not just third year. Every good day comes to an end, and so does every bad day. Life is a journey, and one I am wholeheartedly excited to be a part of.
So yeah, I am in my final year. I’m proud to be a third year student. Im proud of my university experience, and I’m looking forward to seeing what else is in store for me; even if it is one day out of a week for myself.
Who knows where we’ll end up?