I should be happy. I should be ecstatic that I won’t have to attend lectures on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday anymore, go through rounds and rounds of examinations, and attend office hours. I should be jumping for joy that I have done my time at Berkeley, that I am now classified as an “alum.”
But when children reach the end of their school year, they all joyously proclaim,
no more pencils, no more books, no more teachers' dirty looks.
Somehow, “Bachelor Chan” does not quite have the same ring as “Master Chan,” or “Doctor Chan.”Read More