5 perks of being a finalist

1) Free Food

If welfare, the Christian Union and a whole queue of anonymous benefactors had their way finalists would waddle to each exam, barely fitting through the doors.

The number of times during my finals when I’ve checked my pigeon hole to find some kind of sugary treat in there was…about seven. (The number of times when the donor of the food has made themselves known, perhaps two. But I’m not one to look a gift-horse in the mouth.)

2) Slob wear

Slob-wear: with the exception of very few, finalists cast aside all vestiges of consideration for appearance. All-day bed-hair, coffee-stained tracksuit trousers, blankets worn as clothing… Referencing unexpected perk number one, I worry that perhaps this may become a permanent change when it becomes apparent that we no longer fit into our more tailored, fitted clothing.

Maybe I’ll fit back into them when I stop having a maintenance loan and abruptly become destitute.

3) Procrasti-sex

It’s exactly what it sounds like. And it’s so much better when you know you really should be doing something else. Kudos if you manage this while literally atop a pile of books, notes and highlighters. In the library. In broad daylight.

4) Uber-fun

It’s amazing what you went through to avoid work. Suddenly everything except revision became an irresistibly amusing activity. Cat videos were already a guilty love affair, but then they became a frequently scheduled necessity.

Eating may have been mundane fuel provision, but with finals it became a hedonistic pleasure drawn out to last hours.

Watching paint dry, training as a fire-eater or trapeze artist, rowing….

5) Closure

These are your finals. I don’t know if this is universal, but I enjoy the knowledge that once your exams are over you can dump all specific knowledge gathered over the preceding months, and still maintain what really ought to be a set of “employable skills” for future life.

After this if I ever have to take another exam I know that it was entirely of my own volition.

Although hell be damned if this means I won’t bitch about it anyway.

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