KEARSTIN CANTRELL | Opinions Editor
As a graduating senior, the last week of class comes with a lot of excitement, a lot of fear and a lot of whirling thoughts about the past four years and what lies ahead. Let’s take a look at a few.
“Will I still graduate if I fail this class that I currently have a 90 percent in?”
As the final days of college approach, there’s that paranoid thought in the back of your head that for some unlikely, basically impossible reason you might not be able to graduate. Oh the terror. Who could possibly handle another semester?
“I’m so excited to start cooking like an average human again.”
If there’s one thing I, personally, won’t miss about college, it’s the less-than-normal eating patterns that come with being in school for four years. There’s nothing fun about barely having enough money for a cup of coffee, let alone groceries for a home-cooked, semi-healthy, not Chick-fil-a or Qdoba meal.
“Is it acceptable to have plastic furniture after college?”
When it’s time to pack up your belongings there’s an intricate selection process about what gets to accompany you to your first big-kid apartment. That set of plastic drawers from Walmart? You don’t need them. The rickety kitchen table you got from Goodwill for $20? Pass. The coffee table that has no legs on one end and is instead held up by an orange plastic milk crate? Thanks for the memories, but it’s got to go.
“Maybe they’ll let me stay if I get a master’s degree.”
There may be a short period of time where getting a master’s and staying in school for two more years to avoid the responsibilities of being a full-blown adult seems like a good idea.
“Wait. I definitely don’t want to do this for two more years.”
It is not a good idea. You don’t want to do that. Not right now at least. Unfortunately, it’s time to put on some big-kid pants and do the things adults do. Like pay rent and set up a gas and electric account.
“Wow. This might be the last time I ever…”
Yep. This might be the last time you go to Gingham’s with your friends for omelets for dinner. It might be the last time you spend a Thursday night on Main with your friends. It might be the last time you get attacked by a goose walking to class.
“I can’t believe it’s over.”
It’s been real, Lindenwood. Thanks for the friends. Thanks for the memories. Thanks for everything.