The closer I get to graduation, the more paranoid I become. I just sent emails to all the professors whose classes I got incompletes in last term, asking them to PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD TURN MY GRADES IN ON TIME OR ELSE I WILL EXPLODE IN YOUR OFFICE. I can feel each wingbeat as the Diploma-Snatching Fairy hovers by my neck waiting for Monday, when the incompletes magically turn back into pumpkins and failures. It doesn’t help at all that my physics professor is very very pregnant, and the TA in charge of grading the finals is the kind of guy who doesn’t respond to email much.
Last year I came so close to not graduating on time, and indeed to not graduating at all, at least not from here, that it seems impossible for things to go off without a hitch. Pardon me while I chew my fingernails, and retreat to the mountains for the weekend with a class full of freshman geology students.