What happens when a happy, sheltered college student begins her last semester of school with no definite plans for the future? With absolutely no idea where she will end up in approximately five months? Unfortunately, I happen to know firsthand.
She panics.
This is the end of the first week of my last semester as an undergraduate student, and I'm scared. Terrified in fact. The real world is an intimidating place, and I'm headed on a straight and rapid path right towards it. I can see it looming in the near future, a short distance away, beckoning me with major responsibilities, graduate school or a job, and bills; more bills than I think I can handle.
Like many graduating seniors, I'm anxious to see what will become of my sheltered little self when I'm thrown out of my comfortable college world and forced to survive on my own. No nice, clean, campus apartment, no set class and work schedule and most of all, no help from parents.
Since the very first day of my freshman year, when mom and dad dropped me off at good old Pritchard Hall, I have been constantly reminded, almost daily, of their eager anticipation to permanently cut me off their budget the minute I earn my diploma.
Cut me off? That's right. No extra money, no free apartment, and (gasp) I will have to pay my own cell phone bill. Not to mention my own health insurance, car insurance and dental insurance. I can't tell you how many times I've heard the same sentence out of my father's mouth: "Katie, do good in school so you can get a job and support yourself. You graduate, you're on your own."
Of course, fair's fair. I've been lucky thus far to have as much support from my parents as I have had and still do. Still, the task of being financially independent seems daunting, and after three and a half years of knowing exactly what was coming next, I and the rest of the graduating class of 2006 have a lot of surprises in store.
The problem in my current uncertain situation lies in my anxious personality. I'm one of those people who need to have everything planned out and scheduled down to the very last minute. Never spontaneous, always slightly neurotic. My little black book runs my life. People who think I'm unorganized and messy now should have seen me in my pre-planner days. Every day I draw up my schedule, color code it (yellow for work, green for Spectrum time, and pink for class), and make a list of things that need to get done.
The point of this planner spiel is that for me, not knowing what's going on tomorrow is hard. Having no idea where I will be or what I will be doing in five months is absolutely killer.
The reason I chose this subject is because I know for a fact that many graduating seniors are currently in similar situations, facing similar anxiety and sudden panic attacks at the thought of the future.
Of course, should I perhaps have put my post-graduation plans into gear about six months ago? Yes. Should I maybe have at least started studying for the GRE's more than three weeks before I was to take them? Most definitely.
But that can't be changed now. All I can do for the moment is remain reservedly optimistic and cautiously confident that with the right amount of luck I will succeed in making it in my plan A: graduate school.
Providing that the admissions committee doesn't deny me because of my failing grade in cell biology and that I don't bomb the GRE's because I don't know the relationship between "laconic" and "volubility," I'll most likely get into a master's program somewhere. If not, I'll find a job. Four years of college and a bachelor's degree has to help somewhat with my marketability and job search.
I'm at that point where I can do anything with my life. Move anywhere, get a job or go to grad school, travel. When it comes down to it I think it is vital for fellow graduating students and I to appreciate the uniqueness of our current situations: to take life for what it is and be confident that things will work out in the end.
Because if worse comes to worst we can always move home and leech off our parents. Or not.
