I’m not sure if I’m just perpetually PMS-ing, but I’ve been extremely sentimental recently. Maybe it’s due to the fact that I spent a whole summer with my dogs and now I’m experiencing extreme separation anxiety. Or, it could be due to the fact that I’m starting my last year of college. I think it’s the latter. Sorry pups.
If you know me, you know I am an extremely anxious person. If you didn’t know that, within the first five minutes of meeting me, it’s a dead giveaway. I spent this summer on Cape Cod, arguably one of the most relaxing places for the east coast. However, as I would sit on the beach and start to unwind, I would be jolted back. My mind would race with thoughts of “you need to find a job,” “what the fuck are you doing with your life,” “maybe you should really consider consulting,” “get it together, Greenberg,” hitting me over and over again like the waves on the shore. The beach was ruined for me.
I think what’s so hard for me is the unknown. Literally from the ages of 5-22 your life is somewhat planned for you. You go to school to continue going to school until you graduate. Then that’s it. The pursuit for higher education has to end at some point.
But the inevitable is coming, so I must prepare myself. I have come up with some tactics as a way to help me cope. They are as follows:
I’ve decided to dedicate an hour a day to cry alone in my room. There is nothing better than an hour of unadulterated and cathartic sobbing in the fetal position. Let the tears fall because you’re getting older and there’s literally nothing you can do to stop that.
Once a week, I’m also going to try to get someone to swipe me into the Ratty since I’m sans meal plan. I want to surround myself with freshman – feel their eagerness and desire to be liked by others – as a way to revitalize myself. If I sit there long enough, maybe, just momentarily, I’ll truly believe I’m one of them – 18 and able to chug straight from a plastic handle of vodka.
Also, I just think I’m not going to look for a job. Looking for a job means I am accepting the fact that I have to move on after college. It acknowledges that I also need to be an adult and make….hmm, what’s that word again? Oh right, money. I need an earning. So, if I just don’t look for a job, I won’t have to think about the future post college. Everyone is happy! Especially my parents!
Lastly, I am going to confront Christina Paxson herself and politely ask if I can just not graduate. If I’m really nice, how can she contend with that? She’ll have to let me stay!
Denial and ignorance are the only ways to make it through senior year. If you reject the notion that you have to go into the real world, maybe it won’t really happen?
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