If I'd happen to have been in New Zealand this week, and all my laundry had already been done, and I could think of nothing else interesting to look at on the Internet, then maybe I would have gone along to graduation.
I have terrible memories of my family having to suffer through six hours of graduation ceremonies when my sister and myself graduated in different ceremonies (she with her Masters), on the same day. I remember swearing to myself that I would never put them or myself through that sort of unnecessary pain ever again.
But this week marks graduation for my Post-Graduate Diploma in Communication Management. A piece of paper two and a half years and a whole lot of junk food in the making.
I spent many a long afternoon sitting at work surrounded by cookie wrappers, research articles, and weighty text books explaining the ins and outs of cross-cultural marketing strategies. There was the summer that my memory only extends to my bedroom wall, which I stared at in between closely examining the wonders of commercial law, when everyone else seemed to be at the beach. Or the evenings of my first six months in London, when I would drown myself in the rules of APA referencing, in between discovering the triggers of acculturative stress.
And now it is done. I've ticked that box. Next stop Master's. This train terminates at PhD.
Oh what a ride it shall be.
2 comments:
Well done you. And thank you....don't think the 19 month year old would have sat still for longer than a minute and the yet to be seen addition would probably have got over excited and made an early appearance!
Clever baby,another graduation...? Can we have a rain check until the PHD? mind you, you had to sit thru' mine. Tee Hee.
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