The Perks of Attaining a Degree at 40
It's sweltering hot and my stomach is in knots as I eye the invigilator nervously as he approaches with the question papers in his hands. 'Why am I doing this again?' I ask myself vowing never, never to subject myself to this kind of trauma ever again. It did not help that in addition to the knots, I had a real stomach ailment as well. Taking a gulp of water and forcing myself to calm down, I look at the dreaded sheet of paper. 'Okay,' I say to myself, 'I can do this'. Thereby start the three hours that seem to pass too quickly as I fervently fill in sheet after sheet with the assortment of information in my brain that I have to somehow make sense of and display brilliantly with some semblance of order and method. I undergo this rigourous event five times before it all ends and I collapse in bed, hardly to be seen out of it for two days straight. 'Never again,' I had said to myself. 'I needed a post-graduate degree, I am done (or almos...