Dear future hubster,
some days, one can feel they are kicking ass, with their (supposedly) shiny new degree in their hands (figuratively spoken, as the object itself is not distributed during the ceremony that is put in place for exactly that distribution), that they can manage even a little bit complicated things, and in general, that they have their shit together.
Other days, the same person can feel that figuring out where to change from the E train to the F is an intellectual effort that exceeds their abilities.
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