We took a quiz.

Then we started the final.

I drank some water, ate some grape Hi-Chews.

Then groups started leaving, taking turns for their oral presentations.

My partner and I gave our presentation after I worked on the final for an hour and forty-five minutes.

Go, de Gaulle! Go, Sartre! Go Picasso and your pointy desmoiselles!

We spent about six minutes on the presentation. Go, Modernisme!

Then I spent about 30 more minutes on the final. Double checking answers and writing the last essay question.

Then I put it on the narrow wheelie table at the front of the class.

Then I left the room.

And I realized I wouldn’t have to take another French final for the rest of my life.

Or at least take a quiz, a final, and give a presentation in the same period of time.

Or go back to BYU.

Probably.

It’s the craziest feeling.

Tomorrow is commencement.

And Friday is the convocation.

My mom is here.

She’s proud of me.

I guess I am, too.