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The opinions expressed in this article are the writer’s own and do not reflect the views of Her Campus.
This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Washington chapter.

In late September of this year, I was standing in the Dawg Pack section of the UW vs. Northwestern football game with my younger brother Jim and my slightly rowdy, football-oriented friends. We were crushing the Wildcats, and the Seattle sun was shining ever so brightly. After every play, the freshmen next to me cheered joyously, explaining to me that they had never been to a football game with this many people and further expressing their eagerness to start at UW the following Wednesday. I, too, was hoping to get that exhilarating rush of adrenaline that I usually feel at football games, but, even after we won, I never did. I felt empty and like a huge fraud in my own body. It was like I was wearing clothes that once fit perfectly but had become just a tad bit too small on me. 

The lack of enthusiasm at this football game could have been a one-off experience, or so I thought. Soon, everything else started to lose its lust as well. The first day of classes was just another day, even though it would be my last first day of school ever. Mundane would be the proper word to describe it, or just ever so bleh. On the weekends, each function I would walk into had the same people that I had seen the previous weekend, and the weekend before that, and then the weekend before that one. As an aside, maybe I have just talked too much these past four years and now know too many people in our student body.

I decided to bring this phenomenon to a handful of my engineering friends who were destined to know the solution to my lack of excitement, just like they do to everything else. 

“The vibe has been off this year,” I stated. They all agreed, and we reflected back and forth for a few moments before coming to our grand hypotheses:

  1. We are cognitively preparing for the end of college and are dreading the looming giant unknown called adulthood. We don’t really know if this is something that actually should be feared, or something that we are told we should fear. Either way, it is here. 
  2. We have already experienced everything college has to offer. The novelty of the undergraduate experience was long gone. College had become an oddly familiar Sims game.

Like a doctor explaining a diagnosis, I was relieved to conclude that I just have a bad case of senioritis. I have been diagnosed with senioritis every four years since I was 13, oftentimes showing symptoms in the form of having my mom let me skip class, turning in my homework late, or not studying for tests. However, this case of senioritis was different. Not only do I not have my mom around to make excuses on my behalf, but also because objectively, I am having the time of my life. I have never gone out as much as I do now, I have a stable friend group, and I know how to navigate a heavy academic load while working two jobs. On paper, I have everything together.

That’s it. I have everything together. They say that life is about the journey, not the destination. Now that I feel like I am approaching that destination — the highly coveted University of Washington degree — I am realizing that maybe they were right. The joy of college comes not from the feeling of achieving all of your goals that you created for your 22 year-old self at 17. It is not the perfect study abroad experience, your summer internship post on LinkedIn, nor the opportunity to work in your dream research lab. It is not taking advantage of all of the resources available on-campus in four years, hosting the most elaborate friendsgiving every November, nor going on a stunning Cabo spring break with your roommates. Simply put, the true joy of college is everything in between.

We work so hard to make sure everything goes right that we fail to realize that the pleasure and thrill of it all comes from when things go wrong. 

Upon consultation, we — the team of several engineers and I — have concluded that sufficient treatment options for this case of senioritis were necessary to avoid burnout. Further discussion regarded why I failed to get that exhilarating rush of adrenaline like the freshmen did and steps to remediate this issue, which are as follows:  

  1. I have come to terms with senior year. I will never be a freshman again, walking into my first HerCampus meeting knowing no one, or sitting at my desk in Willow Hall with a random group of boys sitting on my carpet as I do homework. I will also never make the same mistakes again. And, isn’t that the point of college altogether? Growth and learning? Check and check.
  2. I have made a plan to make the absolute most of every moment. While I cannot control the fear of the unknown and all of the many possibilities to come, I can control the present moment. With that being said . . .
  3. I can still make this last dance of college as lively and silly as I intended. One day, I will not be able to walk into a function and know the in-depth life stories of each person like I do now. The preemptive nostalgia of this chapter in my life forces me to use these last few months to push myself out of my comfort zone. I mean, memories are made in the most unplanned ways anyways. You heard it here first, this senior year will be unforgettable.
Maggie O'Brien

Washington '25

Maggie is a senior at the University of Washington from San Francisco, California. She is majoring in Public Health - Global Health, and doubling minoring in Data Science and Nutrition. Maggie is a tour guide for UW and the social media coordinator for the Food Pantry. She is super excited to continue on this project as a writer for Her Campus this year, and be able to share her writing pieces with other like-minded women!