Well, my finals are over, and I turned in my last late paper, and I'm about to try to sleep a wink or two before I go see Bill get a hoodie, courtesy of the accounting department of a major university.
Back in the early to mid-nineties, Bill and I were roommates for about four years. We lived in a tired old shack of a house on the edge of campus, and did not prosper, financially or even academically, to tell the truth. We both dropped out of our studies for a while. Bill from BioChem, me from... whatever the hell I was studying.
But we both found wives, bought houses, had kids or dogs or both, and caught a clue, and went back to school. Bill even attended 15+ hours a semester while working full time to make it happen. He changed majors (drastically), and now, with a Masters in Accounting, he's fit to do your taxes or do a forensic audit.
Congratulations, boy. I'm proud of you. I mean it more than my trifle of a gift could begin to convey.