From what my phone tells me, I have one month, two weeks, one day and six hours until I walk across “that stage.” Cue panic attack.
If I’m being honest, the feeling started creeping up on me last week when I bought my cap and gown. That’s when it got pretty real. But being the pro that I am at shoving down emotions, I ignored that feeling.
Until now. Thanks a lot, Countdown app. I know I said I was ready to graduate, but at this point I just want to go all the way back to kindergarten. Those days of naps, coloring and Teddy Grahams are what I live for now.
This university has been my home and my life for the past four years. I rule this school. I can’t walk across campus without running into at least three people I know. And those people think I’m awesome! People at a “big kid job” might not think I’m awesome.
On top of that, I know which is the best sushi roll to eat at the student center, which building has the cleanest bathrooms and which route to walk to class in order to avoid getting harassed by bake sale tables. I had it all figured out!
Whenever I need a question answered, I always know exactly who to go to on campus. What happens when I start a job and I can’t figure out how many food pallets to give the pet fish in the office? The thing will die, I’ll get fired and I’ll start receiving death threats from my ex co-workers.
Or what happens if I can’t get a job at all….? That’s a whole new ball game.
Then there’s the fact that I’m completely incapable of being a functional adult. I can’t even tie my hiking boots by myself (shout out to my daddy for always having my back…or my foot). So how the heck am I supposed to do adulty things like start a retirement fund or buy a house?
Nobody tells you about the feelings you experience when you’re about to graduate college (so I blame all of you for this meltdown, jerks). It’s one of the most exciting things in the world, but it’s also terrifying because it’s such a drastic change in lifestyle — especially if you’re like me and not going to grad school. Then it’s exhausting because senioritis is a real thing and you really don’t care if you forget to take an online quiz because you were out partying instead.
It’s a rough time, man.
But whether I’m ready or not, in one month, two weeks, one day and six hours I’ll be making one of the biggest steps in my life…most likely in high heels, which adds a whole new risk level. I just have to go with the flow, remember that everything works out the way it’s supposed to and hope I don’t fall flat on my face (literally and figuratively).
Wish me luck!
-B