As I sit here drooling into my now lukewarm cup of tea in my codeine-induced state I cannot but help be a little pensive, a little reflective. The big pillows and searing heat pack on my back are my only reminders that the drugs were for a particular muscle in my back that decided to go all Mike Tyson on me. Oh, and if you are counting, I guess the short shallow breathing and ridiculous pain are pretty good reminders too, but at the moment the only counting I am doing is counting pretty little pink pills that make the pain go away. Someone told me if I take too many I would be able to feel my own brain with my tongue, but so far nothing. Liars.

The whole reason I am sitting in front of my computer - as has been the norm for the past month or so - is that I am well into my last 6 weeks at Macquarie University. Pretty soon I will complete my BA DipEd, majoring in History & Geography in secondary education. Now, in all my years at uni (and there have been a few), I have been through a lot of busy periods, but honestly nothing quite this bad. But I am slowly finding that light at the end of the tunnel... very slowly. I only have one Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade population report to write, one Australian population paper to create, two innovative lessons on resource management to invent, a behavioural report to finalise, and then two exams.

Realistically, six weeks is not a long time, unless you happen to be a worker bee, in which case it happens to be your entire lifetime, just six weeks for existence. Which I think goes a long way to explaining why bees work so hard, for so long, under such bad working conditions. "Holiday pay? No thanks sir, I would rather fly around madly rolling in flowers and stinging small children!" That’s the good thing about bees, they work so hard for so little reward.

If only there were more bees in this world, or at least more people working like bees, the world would be such a different place. It would be a case of problem identified - problem fixed. No red tape, no protests and no workers strikes - a world of pure precise production efficiency. Of course I believe it goes without saying that I would not be one of the worker bees. I would be nominating myself with both hands for society’s role of a "Drone". For those uninitiated into the world of bees, a drone is a male bee that hatches from an unfertilized egg, and who exists solely to eat food and get the queen bee knocked up. I guess you could say I would be a combination between a lazy house-husband and Jesus. Work it out.

Back to the point, I am finishing uni soon, and decided to share something with you all. I’m a pretty big deal at Macquarie University. I am in fact, SUCH a big deal that they hung a picture of me in the Student Services Building in the cashier’s office. For those of you observing, I have included a few pics for you to check out. Oh, please don't get me confused with Nick Carter from the Backstreet boys, that hair (and the body it belongs to) was from quite some time ago - when that hair was fashionable. Or, at least I thought it was.

Funny though, I still remember those clothes that I was wearing, and even who gave those seriously un-trendy clothes to me. (Mums shoes, Dads jeans and the shirt from a girl called Catherine!) Ironically, that photograph captured the ONLY moment I ever did any work inside a lecture theatre at uni.

What can I say? I will be missed.