So I had my uni graduation ceremony last night. Apart from an expletive-laden outburst from one of the angry graduates on stage, it went pretty much as expected. I wore the silly cap and gown and reconsidered the merits of living in the 1800s and going to Hogwarts. I didn't trip on my way to collect my degree. And I resisted the temptation to throw my cap in the air. I guess it was a bit of an anti-climax having the ceremony in March, long after the excitement of finishing is over and the reality of being jobless has set in. I guess I was always a little bit naive in thinking that having a degree meant everyone would want to give me a job. 

I don't think the piece of paper means what it used to. This chick seems to agree. Nevertheless I felt a bit special thanks to my parents and grandparents making a fuss of me the whole night and taking me for Italian hot chocolate afterwards. 

The sugar's worn off but I'm escaping my post-uni depression with good music, books, family, and mission preparation. Life is long and shouldn't be spent waiting for things that will supposedly make me happy. Joy in the journey and all that jazz.