When I left the Indy tonight, I told Gary that the next time I saw him, I’d be a college graduate.

Well, that might be an exaggeration - I got an e-mail (mass-mailing) from the graduation office, just a general list of things to make sure I’d done before they could “graduate me” and the reminder that no one was officially “graduated” until the graduation office said so — but as far as I’m concerned, once Thursday is over, I’m done (and as everyone I’ve spoken to has confirmed, I will be).

One of the unexpected consequences of my school schedule is that I have become an “early bird.” Waking up after 8:30 on a day where I have no classes and don’t have to be at work until 11am makes me feel like I’ve spent half the day in bed. I realize this attitude is laughable — one of my coworkers, who is a car-mechanic during the day and a pizza-slinger at night, told me he had to wake up at 5am every day and had no sympathy for me, to which I responded, “Then why’d you fucking ask?” — but consider that a year ago I would get off work at 11pm some nights, get home, and contemplate watching a three-hour movie before heading to bed.

I can’t complain, of course. I’m sure (or at least, hopeful) that I’ll find an entry level job with a decent pay that’ll require me to be at work by 9am. So I figure, it’s a good thing my body is already getting adjusted.

And now it’s 10pm-ish and I’m fighting off yawns.

I feel old.

Every now and then, I come across some good-natured, well-intending jackass who thinks that a “Buy Two Get One Free” coupon for burritos at Chili’s counts as a tip. It doesn’t.

However … lotto tickets?

My second delivery at the Indy last night went sort of like that, except all the woman had to offer me for a tip was a lotto card. “Oh, I don’t have any cash,” she said. Meanwhile, I’m thinking, “You paid on a credit card - write one in!”

As it turns out, I’m glad she didn’t write one in. The ticket is worth $5. Lucky for me - she usually tips two bucks (if she’s feeling generous).

Last night, lotto ticket aside (or included), was a fantastic night to work. I love surprise spring thunder-storms. They roll in with some lightning and rain, pull away, and the sun illuminates the glistening vegitation and concrete and asphalt and towering trees. That was essentially the whole night, until the sun set, at which point a long drive taking a run from Loveton to Cockeysville down Phoenix Road where the road and its flanking trees were illuminated by brilliantly blue explosions of lightning.

In addition to the rain, I was grateful for the tips. Lots of them. Lots of good tips. I hope today and tomorrow are like that, too — I’m taking off most of next week to a.) make sure I get enough study time , and b.) enough hangover recovery time after celebrating the end of finals.

And that’s a lie, too. My Tuesday night class — Tradition & Form — has its final Tuesday night. The last night of regular classes. But for some reason, we’ve all got to tramp back to campus the following Tuesday for our “official” final time-slot. It doesn’t make any sense to me. I think Dr. A is going to use the time to do some last peer-reviews on students’ papers, but since I’ve already got an A on mine, I think it’s just going to be a waste of time on a day that would otherwise be mine.

PS - I would imagine blogging is going to be light for the rest of the semester.

And now, off to work I go. I’m going to sing a song. Something from The Seven Dwarfs, I’d imagine.