Have a
quarter life crisis:
question what you've done, what you're doing, and where you'll be in three
months. Even if you have a job, have a paranoid fear that your contract might
be rescinded at any point in time. Even if you've been admitted to grad school,
have doubts about the immense amount of debt you're about to perpetuate.
Regret everything. That freshman year hookup. That guy you never talked to across a crowded room. Playing too hard to get. Not playing the game. Last night. Not spending enough time on academics. Not studying finance, medicine, or engineering. Not spending enough time with friends. How much time you wasted on tv shows, video games, and being hungover.
Have an
overly inflated idea about where you'll be in five years. Because five years from
now you'll have it all figured out. A career, a boyfriend, and the perfect
apartment. Forget that you have no idea what you actually want to do with your
life. Ignore the absurd housing prices in NYC. Avoid the fact that you'll be
paying off student loans for the next five years (gotya bitch).
For some reason you cling onto advice more violently than ever before. Conversations that used to be about your latest crush or that date from last week seem insignificant to life discussions about career, family, and the overwhelming loom that is the future.
Secretly compare yourself to everyone. They seem to have it all figured out. Their lives sound beautiful, exciting, perfect.
Reach out, to everyone you might have wronged or hurt. People might ask if you're in a rehab program. Eight step program? Twelve steps? Alcohol's Anonymous? Actually, that might be a good idea. Insist that you're genuine, and have been meaning to apologize forever.
Stop. And appreciate everything. Yolo, right? That annoying kid in your chem engineering class who you never got along with? Suddenly you're in a forgiving mood despite the fact that he never pulled his weight in a project. Give your best friend from sophomore year a second chance. That ridiculously monotone Econ professor? Looking back, her demeanor was almost endearing despite the fish glazed eyes in the room.
Pay attention in class. Suddenly it seems that college has always been the place to fulfill your intellectual curiosity about all subjects. That random photog class you're in now, the scuba diving class everyone is raving about, and the ballroom dance class you couldn't fit into your schedule suddenly seem so appealing. Why couldn't you stay in school longer? Ignore the fact that you've skipped classes all the time, that you've hated certain professors, dreaded group projects, and how you've spent the last four years constantly worried more about your weekend plans than your future plans for all of college.
Ignore your parents. As they start to pester you about next year, reply nonchalantly that they shouldn't worry. That you're not too concerned. Secretly panic as their anxiety rubs off on you.
When people ask about what you're doing next year, have five different answers ready. Preparing for the GRE/MCAT/LSAT/GMAT, looking for a job near home and living with your parents to save money, traveling to the middle of no where Turkmenistan, or working as a slave for some unknown nonprofit for a year before grad school. Those all seem like solid plans. You're breaking into a nervous sweat? Oh, don't worry -- that's just your excitement about leaving college. (psych)
Pretend you care. Talk to everyone, including familiar strangers. It's your last chance to get to know people you never bothered even nodding to when you passed them on the green. Make empty promises to people about getting together for drinks. Take that shot with that random girl from your English lit class last semester. She's so much more fun than you gave her credit for -- not that anyone's level of fun can be surmised after one socratic seminar.
You're friends with everyone and everyone is friends with you. Bond over the fact that this is the last semester of your college career. The last deadline, the last paper, the last time signing up for classes. The last time you'll ever have a chance to see these people. Oh and while you're at it, stop hyperventilating.
Laugh. At everyone's Facebook pictures from freshman year. At the dumb drunk, high, and otherwise inebriated moments. At your fears, especially since you're probably better off than most Americans without a college degree.
Make stats
up about how unemployment is at an all time low for the first time since 08. Oh wait, it actually is.
Take solace in the fact that you can always move in with your parents, or pursue
that fashion design career you've been dreaming about.
Fear working at McDonald's. Or that you'll hate your job, even though you haven't even started. Have irrational worries that you'll never meet anyone after college. That you're not smart enough. Or pretty enough. That you really didn't learn anything useful in college.
Realize. That if college was the best four years of your life -- then you have much larger problems than just next year's plan. The best has yet to come.
Relax. You're still young. Whatever you do next year is not what you'll be doing for the rest of your life.
Trust me. When I say that no matter what, things will turn out okay.
Look forward to tomorrow. Because the best thing about the future is that it only comes one day at a time.
