Benjamin Franklin was a lot of things, but he was never a Hokie. Instead of death and taxes being the only certainties in life, we have school and summer. As my senior year comes to a close and I get to enter that lovely world of death, taxes and adulting, I want to let you know what to expect when you’re expecting this to be your last summer.Â
When May comes along, I think most of us are still stuck in the academic mindset. Our finals just ended, and we’re waiting for our grades to come back even as we make summer trip plans. This is the most optimistic month. Where Disney with the girls in July, a quick trip to Paris in June and a life-changing summer romance in Spain all seem possible—despite the fact your budget is $12. My advice to you this month is to go ahead and make all those plans! Although it hasn’t hit you yet, it’s your last summer as a student. Events sell out quickly, especially nowadays. There’s also nothing better than realizing after a long week of working that the interactive Van Gogh exhibit you bought tickets for months ago is finally tonight.Â
By June, summer has sunk in enough to be exciting, but it still feels endless. It was right around here that I started wanting to reorganize my wardrobe, cut my hair, get a new tattoo or five and plan for my senior year. I joined a gym! I wanted to create some good habits, and June felt like the perfect time. The hours of homework felt far enough away that I could focus on the fun, football games and friends.Â
I can tell you the exact date in July where summer’s end came into sight. It was July 22, the day after my birthday. I was another year older—wiser hopefully—and there weren’t any other holidays to celebrate before the year began.Â
It’s August now, a day before I move into my apartment for the last time. I finally caved and bought an agenda, and I started making plans with all my friends. Can I manage TOTS Tuesday, a wine and cheese Wednesday with my roommates, a 9 a.m. Thursday class and Friday night fun? All on a budget of about $10? Probably not, however, I want to try. I’m filled with a sense of sadness at the thought though. Before, there was always next year. Even if I couldn’t make it to Chocolate Milk Mondays, there was always next year. Even if I got a C, there was always next year, but now there isn’t.Â
Soon there will just be a shapeless future, a void I toss my plans in to and hope for the best. No more semesters and structure to keep me grounded. It was once exciting and terrifying. Being a student won’t be my full-time career. In fact, taking work home with me will even be discouraged—even if I do work from home. Instead, I’ll be an adult, for whom working is just another part of life. There is work and then weekends. Death and taxes. Hopefully without the pressure of early morning classes and packed bus rides to campus, I’ll be able to live my free time more fully: going out after work, treating weekdays like weekends and making the weekend my new summer vacation. I’ll finally have time to pursue hobbies. I could write a book, or embroider. I don’t know where I’ll be in a day, month or even a year. So, I need to make the most of this one.Â