I am almost done with the first semester of my last year here and I couldn’t be more in denial.
I’ve become increasingly lazy and increasingly more of an alcoholic. I haven’t even thought about graduate schools. The GRE just sounds like a bunch of random letters to me.
Going to class is like an uphill battle — I spend the entire car ride to campus dreading being in class, and I spend my entire time in class on www.StumbleUpon.com, looking at GIFs of people falling down steps.
I’ve been in the Glenn G. Bartle Library all day today struggling to get through work, and I want to rip my hair out. The thought of doing work makes my skin crawl.
My diagnosis? An extreme case of senioritis with a dash of alcoholism and a pinch of being a lazy piece of shit.
Nobody wants to put on their big-kid pants and go to interviews when the alternative is sitting in pajama pants on your couch playing “Modern Warfare 3.”
What can seniors in grow-up-denial do to get it all out of our system other than imbibing ourselves with Alabama Slammers at Tom & Marty’s?
First, it’s important to live in the moment. Right now is the last time you can drink in excess without your family staging an intervention. And while I don’t condone going out and getting black-out drunk every night — and who am I kidding, maybe I do a little bit — it’s important to remember that you do not leave here with any regrets.
No one wants to look back on the senior year and feel like they missed out, and that’s why I’ve become the obnoxious cheerleader for my group of friends. On most nights, just follow the trail of spilled beer and the sound of a shrill voice screaming “Downtown! Downtown!” and you’ll find the hot mess that is me. And I’ll most likely force you to go Downtown.
Second, remember who your friends are and value them. Some of these bitches and bros might be in your wedding party when you finally settle down at the ripe old age of 30. Don’t let stupid fights and arguments derail you and make sure you settle your issues quickly so they don’t fester.
In guy terms, punch your friend and be done with it, since that’s how you handle issues anyway.
Third, step out of your comfort zone. Again, everyone loves to cram themselves sardine-style into Tom & Marty’s every night, but make sure you change it up. Go see a movie in the middle of the day, or ditch that V-neck for a button-down and hit up the fancy section at Dillinger’s.
And finally, don’t talk about college ending. It is only going to depress you, and drinking when you’re depressed is a recipe for disaster. Or for holes in the wall.
My roommates and I have been guilty of breaking the aforementioned rule, especially while sitting around getting ready for a night out. But we recently instituted a “don’t mention how old we are” rule, and it has fostered a much happier environment for crunkness.
So don’t dwell on the fact that this is all coming to an end. Embrace it and use it as an excuse to go HAM.
I practice what I preach, kids. So if you see me Downtown, buy me a drink, because I’m a poor broke senior with no job lined up after college and no definitive career path other than “I want to be famous.”