The feeling of seeing a pilot episode of live show unfurling without any glitches infront of your eyes, all when you're directing it is a better feeling than holding your new born child, being asked out by Adam Levine and hitting a jackpot that puts you incharge of Vegas.

This feeling even beats when you wear sky-high stilletoes and walk out of the house looking like a million bucks, on a date with a man you're about to wow.

To add to this feeling, much like the evil Baristas at Starbucks add Hazelnut at extra costs, when your colleagues begin poisoning the professors (or rather, feeble attempt to), calling you names and adding hurtful accounts of fictious events to your kitty, you feel just as empowered and blessed as if you're biting into breakfast in bed, completed with whipped cream over waffles and strawberry champagne gelato.

To celebrate, you buy a bottle of cheap white wine and spend an exorbitant amount on chocolate cake, that will ensure your wallet a setback of financial loss.

Get drunking on a sunny winter afternoon, follow that up with eating homemade chicken rogan josh like a pig. Announce it out to the cook that you hate his guts and him but the chicken is worth the pain of tolerating him.

Pass out. (If you're reading this mum, then) Nap it out.

You're now a semester three student at a film school.