Hello, McGill Nightline

There's something about a good day turning into a bad day that makes it all so much worse. Wednesday started of great, and continued that way through my last class, my last paper and a celebratory beer from Jo. I skipped down the street to work on my project and ran into a hug, one that I'd needed desperately the night before. He put his hand over the back of my head and I collapsed into him. I was golden.

Then disaster struck... my wallet taken from my bag as I turned my back for a split second. Who does this? What kind of jackass?! Unbelievable. I had more money in there than I usually carry, having just been paid money from two separate people. So, frantic, when I discovered it was gone, I fled home to cancel my cards and regroup my life. During exams! It was terrible. The porter was rude to me, the woman at security so kind that I almost broke into tears. I hold my exam stress well enough, but this time it has been different, and on top of it all, to have my great day turn so fundamentally bad was too much. I went home, on the phone, canceling and calling. Some knock at my door and its my assignee wanting to show the place. I was meant to be at the library, and had to get there. I talked him down to seven. I couldn't stand still.

One bomb after another as my personal life fell into shambles around me. All I wanted was that hug from the morning, that hand on the back of my head. That comfort. And I couldn't take it, he had an exam in the morning. I booked one for the following evening.

Ultimately it worked out. Thursday was good. The thief turned my (empty) wallet in, and I recovered my cards (except my Visa, which was cancelled) and my identity. I made upwards of $450 selling my notes, thus compensating me for the $75 stolen and $30 I lost not going to work. The only loss was academic, the schoolwork that hadn't been done. But that doesn't matter, since my GPA is static from here and I have an unconditional admission. I also worked my last shift as a McGill Nightline volunteer, something that I have been doing since first year. It is strange to think that its ended, something I found so rewarding. I met so many amazing people doing it, and so many that I wish I'd known better. It was such a small, insignificant part of my university career, those hours spent answering phones, and yet so central to who I was, who I am. I will miss it.

And now? Now I have a weekend of work ahead and a countdown to the end. Six days until I'm officially done, a new piercing to be had and a new chapter to begin. I'm terrified.