My graduation day was the official Worst Day Ever.

Literally everything that could go wrong, did.

The night before, as I stepped out the shower and prepared to tame my unruly hair into submission for the next day, I discovered my boyfriend, away on tour with his band, had taken my hairdryer and brush away with him.

I then spent two hours fixing the broken faulty hairdryer, in order to not have to go to graduation looking like Cousin Itt.

The strain of pretending to be an electrician and fix it, combined with the extreme heat outside, meant I was awake until 3:30 until workers outside my house started drilling - DRILLING! - at 7am.

I phoned the council to make a noise complaint. But by then I was awake, so put my makeup on feeling exhausted and forced down my breakfast.

I then had the worst taxi driver in the world going up to collect my graduation gown.

Insisting I'd lied to the cab company and told them he was late when he wasn't (I'd have no correspondence with them), he proceeded to rant, rave and shout at me repeatedly that I was a liar and to get out his car.

So despite me trying to remain calm and prove this was not true, I ended up having a full on screaming match with the driver and sobbed all my carefully applied makeup off.

As I got out the taxi, still in tears, the driver literally threw my change at me; just as I bumped straight into an old flatmate, who ignored me completely yet still managed to spill coffee down my dress whilst passing.

I collected my robes but dropped the hood for my gown in the middle of the busy street next to Cineworld and didn't notice until a kind woman stopped her car and got out and gave it to me.  

I phoned the cab company and complained, I ripped my tights, I didn't bring makeup with me so got mascara all over my face and no way of fixing it.

Then came the ceremony, with the lack of air conditioning in the hall on the hottest day of the year, the two hour long queue for official photographs in which I look like an angry, red-faced, stressed potato, and the sadness that my student life was now over.

Fingers crossed that my graduate life did not start as it meant to go on.