You're going be tired of fucking study. Exhausted. Till the point of wanting to come home (the shock!). And you're going to wanting nothin more than a beach and no fuckin else there. Just you and the energy coming in. And then you're going to feel all sad and nostalgic about leaving cuz the best time of your fucking life just ended. And then you're going be on that right beach just like you imagined. And its goin to feel good but like somethings fuckin missin. And then you're going to enjoy one week of fuckin holidays like they always meant. You and one of the cities of your heart. And then you're going to be fuckin bored and tired of it. And then you're going to miss the people. So bad. And then you're going to feel good but not great. Existing. And then you're goin to receive that one last mark. You could close the semestre and continue to enjoy your peace days. But you'll begin to study like its the fuckin best thing ever or the last thing ever. You'll actually be happy about it. You missed it. It drives your days. Gives them a purpose. And you're going for one more exam in hopes you'll turn fuckin better. And then you're going to fuckin party hard cuz the nineteen's are just around the corner. And then you're going to balance work, holidays and the true fuckin viagem medieval. And you expect everything to be awesome. You always expect that.