The best part about graduating in June, is being the last to post graduation pictures on Instagram.
Seeing so many peers at other colleges and universities graduate weeks, almost a month before I am, I’ve had a lot of time for self reflection.
Often, that self reflection leaves me lying awake at night, scared for what’s going to happen once I have no classes to attend, no homework to submit, and no professor critiquing me without consequences.
As I entered the twilight of my academic career, it became increasingly harder and harder for me to control what I was worried about.
Before, my worries were somewhat reasonable. From finding an apartment with the market in New York City today, to finding a job that I liked, to worrying that I would even succeed at said job, these are all topics that make anyone sweat.
From moving woes to workplace fears, I have fully transitioned into post-grad panic. Will there be a Trader Joe’s near my apartment? Do I have the cool-Danish-girl wardrobe that’s necessary for my first summer being a real adult? Who do I eat lunch with during work?
Last night, particularly, it was the lunch question that really kept me wired until the wee hours of the morning, turning my Sunday Scaries into Monday morning baggage, and has truly set the tone for my last week of school, EVER.
Each time I’ve left a level of school, I like to reflect on things that I will never have to do again. When I left Elementary School, it was walking in a line and playing the violin. When I left Middle School, it was use a bottom locker or sing in chorus (can you tell I hated music classes). When I left High School, it was ride a bus, hear a school bell, sit in a cafeteria, have a principal (we had a headmaster…), take a standardized test, the list really goes on with that one.
When I left the enormous state school that I immediately evacuated after one year, I had a lot to leave behind. I would never walk around a campus again, I would never go to frat parties or be in a sorority again, I wouldn’t go to football games or any sort of sports games (wink wink, Alex).
Now, leaving SCAD, there’s a lot that I won’t ever do again. I won’t have critiques, I won’t use Canva nearly as much, I won’t go to Ex Libris every Monday and Wednesday and spend an abhorrent amount of money on supplies for a random elective. I won’t ever have to lug a design kit from class to class, I won’t have to do any ELOs or hear the word “midterm conference” ever again.
While these are things that really only make sense to the small community of fellow bees subscribed to this blog, they mean a massive amount to me.
I’m definitely a sentimental person. The idea that I won’t be going to Bull Street Taco every Monday for $5 margaritas with my best friend, followed by bingo and sometimes interrupted by an impromptu haircut makes me truly want to throw up and cry at the same time. Although I hate it, I will miss Ex Libris. Every time I drive by the apartment that I lived in during sophomore year, wondering if I could actually survive my roommates and make any friends whatsoever, I get a twang of nostalgia.
It’s crazy to think how scared I was before coming to SCAD, and going to college in general. Although whenever anyone asks if I’m ready to graduate, I say a resounding yes, and that I can’t wait to leave, I truly don’t think I will ever be ready to say bye to this place.
As I always like to say: it’s been real, it’s been fun, but most of all, it’s been real fun.
adorable pics
enormous state school <3
I cry, we’re so old🥹