I finished my third year of university on Monday, with my group presentation and individual interview. Neither went particularly well or badly.
The presentation was in the afternoon, just after lunch. I met up with my group members in the morning and we made last minute changes and ran through it a couple of times before heading to the lecture hall for the actual thing. There were two members of staff watching us. One of them is one of my favourite members of the faculty, and the other was someone unfamiliar but who my group members had assured me we did not want to get as our moderator. We got set up and ran through it. It was not too bad – everyone did well with some minor stumbles from nerves as you would expect. The one professor (the one I like) seemed reasonably interested, although the other professor looked incredibly bored and disinterested which was off-putting. I could look at neither of them as I ran through my section. I had taken my anti-anxiety pills which meant I could just about present properly, although I was aware of how robotic I sounded. Then we got to the end of the presentation and to the questions part and this is where it fell apart. The bored professor started asking us very strange questions, and I was very grateful for my other group members attempts at answering as I had no idea where to even begin, although we were all of us baffled and it showed. It ended up with him making fun of us for not knowing the answers.
It was not great, and our presentation kind of fell apart because of the question section.
We then had a break before our individual interviews. I went off to the bathroom and when I came back my group members had disappeared, and the interviews started. I ended up waiting outside the room so I could get my stuff. As I waited another group came out from a close by lecture hall and to my surprise, they began to chat to me. We all stood there, waiting, talking amongst ourselves until we were told we could go to another lecture room to wait. Of course I had to wait to be able to get my things, which I did, and then I went to the lecture room and sat all by myself, fretting over my interview, going over my notes but not really being able to concentrate, concerned that I didn’t know where my group members were or whose interview it currently was (It was in alphabetical order.) Eventually I went to hunt down my group members, and I conveniently bumped into one of them who told me where to find the rest. There was actually just one of my group members sat there- which meant I was next. (His surname came after mine.) I sat down next to him, pouring over my notes and more anxious than ever. Then I was called for my interview. There was a table set up at the front of the lecture hall – the two interviewers sat on one side, and a chair on the other for me. The set up made me think of the interrogation rooms I’d seen in dramas. The interviewers were different to those who were present for the presentation and they were much nicer. They asked me about what I thought the project was about, what areas of the thesis I had covered, asked me in detail about those areas, and finally what role in leadership I had taken. All fairly OK questions, not the grilling I had been expecting.
I was anxious but the pills kept me from panicking and beginning to babble. Still I didn’t convey nearly half of what I should of to them. I have a feeling I did not come across like I had done as much as I did, and that I did not have the right idea about the project. At one point one of the interviewers actually seemed surprised by my answer to his question, and not in a good way. I felt so embarrassed afterwards, and so annoyed at myself for failing to mention certain things. Like always, five minutes later I had all the answers. At least it was over. At least I had not panicked.
I walked down to the bus stop, where I just missed one bus and was ignored by another. I felt myself beginning to cry. Not over the missed buses, no. I just felt very tired all of a sudden. I just wanted to be home, away from university. I really could have crouched down and started to sob right there. I felt so completely finished. It has been an exhausting year. (I did not, thankfully, give in to that temptation and managed to blink away the tears.)
But now I’m free! I’ve spent the past few days wallowing in the excessive amount of free time I now have. I’ve basically spent the past few days sleeping, watching dramas… I did catch up on chores and I’ve been trying to eat a bit better. I’m trying not to feel too bad about being lazy though. Next week I’ll try to integrate some slightly more productive things into my time and be even more focused on eating well. For now I’m letting myself relax. Telling myself its OK, everything’s OK. Telling myself to stop worrying about results and fourth year and just focus on now.
You can tell I’m not being entirely successful.
On Sunday I’m going to meet up with my dad to go walking, which I am looking forward to, and over the weekend I should receive information about what fourth year project I have been assigned, which I am not looking forward to.