An orgasm, of sorts.

[Backdated.]

So. I went to see the leader of my course (of sorts) and we struck some sort of deal (of sorts). I left with a diploma, and some money. I hope. The reason I appear, perhaps, slightly uncertain: I am no longer on the course. Or won't be, from Friday. We needed an end point and decided on Friday. As good as any, I guess.

It wasn't really like an orgasm. Not really. But then, what is an orgasm if not a release, of sorts? A pleasurable release, both of inhibition and body fluids, followed by an unwinding and a moment of wondering what to do next? Well, finishing my course was kind of like that. So yes, it's an orgasm. Although not technically. That would've been messy. (And questionable.)

But the "pleasurable" part, there is no question about. I've often made it clear that I hated this course. And I did. So I worked as hard as I could, in the hope that two years of strang und durm were cancelled by the fact that I excelled. Fair enough, that bit didn't work out. But you can't cancel the fact that I tried. So, I have no shame; the only thing left to do was end my course on the best possible terms.

So, an orgasm, of sorts. In the worst analogy ever, I walked away from college. Away from that part of my life, and on unto pastures new. Whatever they turn out to be.

I cast the shadow of my course aside. Unlike the course, it was easy. Also unlike the course, it felt great. Unconventional, perhaps... but great.

No further talk of said course on this blog, I think. I owe myself that much, at least.