A dear friend of mine is risking non-graduation because of a severe case of senioritis.
Me too.
Senioritis plagues even the most dedicated of students.
It’s that breaking point one hits about 130 hours into his degree.
At this point, most folks decide, “This is it — my last chance to screw around and have a crapload of fun — EVER.”
That’s right, kids.
No more hook-ups from the Fred’s parking lot.
No more Monday night porn and pizza parties.
No more midweek trips to Florida because it’s raining in Baton Rouge the rest of the week.
All the good stuff ends when one lands that first “real job.”
So seniors far and wide use their last semester to pack all this stuff in before it’s too late.
The only problem is all that fun can impede the end goal of getting the hell out of this town.
Take it from someone in her third “last semester” at this University.
Don’t misunderstand me; I like this place. It’s been good to me.
But after I shake the dean’s hand, I’m high-tailing it to somewhere sunnier, somewhere friendlier and somewhere where I can get a beer whose name doesn’t end in the word “light.”
That handshake is still a little far off, considering it’s only freaking midterms.
If finals suck, midterms bite.
There’s nothing to look forward to after midterms.
Class still happens.
Tests still happen.
One must continue to do their crap, but maybe that’s just the pessimistic senior in me.
I’m sure the freshmen are all excited because the semester is half-finished.
Idiots.
The very worst part about midterms is if one has screwed around the first half of the semester, the last half is hellish.
It’s a lot harder to boost a grade than to keep one.
I’ve known folks who spent second halves of semesters in which the only outside-of-class contact they had with another human was with their gyno — all in an effort to repair early semester damage.
Hope is not lost if you’ve pissed away the first half of the semester, but one must stay the path and keep the faith to survive.
I believe in you.
Just keep repeating those wise words of the Indigo Girls as you make up for lost time: “I spent four years prostrate to the higher mind / Got my paper / I was free.”