Tonight I am, like Westley, mostly dead. I'm sure wheezing 'true love' is about all I can manage. My internal clock is readjusting to getting up in the morning...
Uni is going to be psycho the next three weeks. Assignments galore and all that jazz. But I've not died of uni yet, or even failed anything, so that're really all ok.
And my exam that I was worried about, I did ok in: two-three marks above average. Someone got eleven out of thirty; I don't envy them.

Huh. Didn't see that coming...

Every time at uni we have a mid-semester exam, I stress and worry and study lots of irrelevant extra information, only to discover that the exam is a) based solely on stuff covered in the lectures and tutes several times over, and b) a walk.
So this time, I think 'Ah, a mid-semester exam, thirty multiple choice questions, nothing to worry about.' I do a review of the base readings and lecture notes, and wander in feeling confident.
And then - BAM! - this is the hardest exam I've ever sat. And I'm sitting there going, 'But they're all phases! How can one of them not be a phase?!' and my stomach is sitting on the floor with my thongs...
Sometimes uni just floors me.