I’ve always enjoyed the occupation of a student. No other occupation gets so much leeway. You say the word student and you enter into this world of understanding and respect. Everyone likes students. In theory, a student will better the future of our country. They bring new thoughts and ideas and help guide society to a better way of living. Students have a purpose and good intentions. Yes, being a student is a wondrous position in life.
However, graduating seniors, has your senioritis kicked in as hard as mine has? I’ve gotten so agitated with everything that sometimes I want to scream. I can’t tell if it’s stress, senioritis or the two happily working together to make me nuts. I can’t stand anything in college anymore. For most seniors, it seems like it’s only the workload getting the better of them. I’ll jump on that bandwagon. I’m sick of writing papers, sick of studying for exams and sick of listening to lectures. My senioritis doesn’t end with the workload though. My senioritis stems from the obligations to people, organizations and even my own writing. I need a new environment, not prefer, need. I need something new instead of this little place in the mountains. I need to go far, far (okay very far) beyond the outskirts of Plymouth.
Then, as if thinking about that isn’t bad enough, I’ve started to wonder, am I taking the right path in my life? Am I ready for the next step? There is nothing like reflecting on the past four years of your life wondering if you’ve been making the right decisions. I’ll go on to analyze my major, my career choice, my writing style, etc. My head is being yanked in so many directions that I don’t know what to think anymore. In the end, I’m driven crazy so it really doesn’t matter which way I take my thoughts. I suppose these kinds of feelings are to be expected when a change is about to take place.
Everything I’ve known is no longer going to be carried on. Since I was four years old, my life has been based around formal education. So far this world has taught me life is a constant preparation for the next step, kindergarten, grades 1-12, the SAT’s, undergraduate school and the GRE’s. I might go on to graduate-school, which means another two years of the preparation lifestyle. By the time I graduate from grad-school, I will have a total of twenty years of formal education under my belt. Twenty years and I still wonder if I’m ready.
It’s not so much being completely independent that bothers me. It’s the outcome in the end that I’m worried about. I feel there is such pressure, a weight that can’t be lifted unless I succeed. If I don’t obtain all that I set out to do, it’s as if I failed and left to wonder what all that education was for in the first place. All the hard work studying and understanding different subjects, the time spent in classes, tests taken, papers written, presentations organized and projects constructed…if none of it is used, what was the point of it in the first place? And if you try to succeed and don’t receive results, what do you do then? Get more education? That seems redundant now doesn’t it?
I have so many dreams and aspirations. I have the mindset of “I see it, I want it, and I get it.” That has always been me, but now, I feel this need to question myself. What am I doing, why I’m doing it and how I’m getting it? I’m having such a hard time understanding why I’ve posed these questions. I don’t typically question the things I do; I just do them. “Now that the big, college student has graduated, what will she do next?” When people hear the words, “college grad,” there are certain expectations people carry with them. It’s like you become this astonishing figure who will, without a doubt, change the world for the better. You have completed preparation, now, on your mark, get set, go run the rat race.
For a while, I thought it was the competition that was bothering me. It’s not; it’s the possibility of failing. Whenever I’m knocked down, I always get back. But you can only fall so many times before you stay down. So much pressure has been built up to the point where I can’t relax and I’m constantly worried. Thinking clearly becomes a challenge. I get so stressed because too many thoughts run through my head. I don’t want to disappoint my family, my professors and my friends…but I especially don’t want to disappoint myself.
Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a f*cking big television. Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three-piece suite on higher purchase and a range of f*cking fabrics. Choose D I Y and wondering who the f*ck you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch, watching mind-numbing spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing f*cking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all. Pissing your last in a miserable home. Nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish f*cked up brats that you’ve spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future, choose life. -Mark Renton (Trainspotting, 1996.)