My last act as an undergraduate was to prepare a poster to “promote” my dissertation. This is it. I was so keyed up about it that after it was printed on Monday, I couldn’t face getting it out of its protective tube in case I saw something I could have done better. So, it sat on the dining table from then until today when, with sweaty palms and trembling hands, I set off for Uni. I worried when I got on the train that I might drop it onto the tracks. I worried when I got off the train that I would drop it onto the tracks. I worried that I might lose it en route between the station and the Uni. I didn’t. I nearly cried.

I spent the morning helping a friend with her presentation and then had to take a short walk to the exhibition room. I asked my friend to make sure I didn’t lose my poster between the Uni library, the sandwich shop and the exhibition hall. I didn’t. i nearly cried.

When the appropriate moment came, I put it onto my stand and took this photo. Then I was tasked with standing by my poster and fielding questions from academics, students and other assorted onlookers. I duly did this. I was approached by a lecturer who I have great admiration for. He said “do you remember sending me an email saying ‘I can say this to you because you are not going to be responsible for marking anything of mine again…’”. I said I did. He then proceeded to ask me a whole load of questions about my poster and it turned out that he was, in fact, my designated marker! I enthused about my dissertation. I nearly cried.

Later, we had drinks and nibbles as the culmination of my degree – there were about 60-70 students and a dozen or so lecturers. The lecturer-in-charge said “we have an announcement to make “there has been a vote for the best poster, as voted by the students and the winner is…Linda Mingay”. I nearly cried.

My jaw dropped. My heart lurched. My peers had voted MY poster as the best. Yee haa. I didn't cry (although I nearly did).