As May rapidly approaches, fourth years are scrambling to find jobs, places to live or graduate schools to attend next year. I -- and most of the other fourth years -- will certainly miss Charlottesville and the University bubble when we're thrown into the harsh reality of adult life after graduation.
I'm sure that on more than one occasion I will lament not having restaurants open at all hours in my city, and without a doubt, I will miss the opportunity to see naked people running down the Lawn on any given night (or day).
It's safe to say, though, that we will miss the lifestyle of college more than this specific university or town. While my love for the University is unending, my time here is up. I already felt old when August came and I enrolled for my last year, but when I saw the first years and thought perhaps we were hosting a middle school science fair, I knew May couldn't come fast enough. My love affair with Charlottesville has been like a summer camp romance; it's been fun, but the end has always been in sight.
Grappling with leaving friends, long weekends that start on Thursday every week and the joy of only having class or work two days a week is what makes graduation hard. It is a sad but true fact we realize that we probably won't see a majority of U.Va. fourth years after graduation (unless you move to D.C. where you will actually see 82.4 percent of our class).
I'm okay with that. I'm not okay with the prospect of a nine-to-five, Monday-through-Friday job. What college gave us all was the freedom to do whatever we wanted on our own schedule. Although we had to attend classes, sometimes jobs or internships and meetings for sororities/fraternities/CIOs, we got to pick and choose our involvement and the time frames.
As it stands right now, if I want to eat at Take It Away, I walk down the Corner. If I want to buy a notebook, I walk to the Bookstore. If I want to skip class, I do. If I want to drink a beer at 2 p.m. because I just handed in a one-page reaction paper, I do. If I want to hook up with somebody random with no strings attached, I do (theoretically). I don't have anyone to answer to, and if I have the time and money, I do what I want.
I've gotten so used to this that the first few months out of college are going to be a shock. With four years of this routine under my belt, following a strict schedule next year and catering to the demands of a higher power is going to be a serious change.
It's leaving this life, this liberty behind that most fourth years find so terrifying. It's not going to be just the pursuit of happiness anymore. We're going to have to assimilate ourselves into a world that doesn't stop turning for Halloween, where we can't shirk responsibilities for fun and where we have to completely and totally support ourselves (student loan-free). That's what's got most fourth years referring to May 21 as "G-Day" and the rest of them refusing to acknowledge we have to leave in two months.
I will probably find myself next year, no matter what job I have, calling my friends in the area trying to get them to skip work like we did class so we can make the 12-hour drive to Beaver Creek.
Without a doubt I'm sure I will ask my employer if he doesn't mind if I do one assignment in a Blue Book, just for old time's sake.
At some point I will probably call the Arch's Flavor Hotline long-distance just to see if they have Grasshopper on the Corner or Ivy.
I won't be surprised when I wake up one Friday morning and turn off my alarm thinking I don't have a single thing to do only to realize, "Oh, damn it! I have to go to work in 12 minutes."
It will have been quite awhile since I've had anything to do on Fridays except recover from the previous night's festivities.
Despite all this and despite the fact that being a fourth year has consumed almost every thought I've had for the past seven months, I'm fairly certain I won't be crying myself to sleep over having graduated.
I love U.Va. -- I can't say it enough. I will always be proud to be a Wahoo, and I'll buy my kids all the Virginia gear I can find. But after the next two months here, partying like it's 1999 with the best friends I've ever had, I'm going to be ready to go. You've got to know when to cut yourself off, and four years is my U.Va. limit.
Lindsay's column runs biweekly on Thursdays. She can be reached at mccook@cavalierdaily.com.
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