This final rush is mentally enternal, phisycally exausting and personally crappy. Lack of concentration pisses me off far more than all the other things that may and should: I'm not used to less-than-full efficiency. Next step is wondering, many times a day, why the end must be such an agony. I'm surgical, I cut clean.
Maybe this time I'll learn patience and endurance or, more probably, I'll go nuts before graduating; anyway, the point is that if I could do what I truly would love to... I know I'd regret it in so many ways.