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Fifth-year senior Blues

By Brad Wallace
Arizona Daily Wildcat
April 23, 1999
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You know, T.S. Elliot might have been right about April being the cruelest month.

Sure, the weather is bringing out the shorts, and we've all got just a few more weeks before the academic holocaust of finals begins, but the realization that the semester is ending has just sunk into my addled brain.

Usually, this would be a time of celebration, a time to plan this summer's exciting low-paying job plans and look forward to sweating all day.

However, this year, I'm saying good-bye to most of my friends.

Somehow, I had constructed this dream world wherein college lasted approximately forever (it certainly felt that way for me as a freshman) and I would never have to actually say good-bye to anyone.

I'm wrong again. It seems like almost everyone I know has exciting plans involving concepts like the "real world" and "full-time employment" (except my creative writing friends, of course), and here I am, registered for Psychology 101 in the fall. There I'll be, surrounded by freshmen, fuming bitterly about my friends who are having all the fun in a 9 to 5 rat race.

Perhaps of more import, however, are the people who aren't graduating on schedule. Two of my friends died, three dropped out of school and one just went raving mad and vanished. Of course, I'm raving mad, but at least I haven't hurt anyone yet. The point being that college is actually a pretty tough haul, creative writing majors excluded, and getting to the finish line counts for a lot.

I imagine that there's a lot of you out there like me, dimly thinking about the fall semester, and wondering how exactly you're going to spend your free time with all the empty holes in your phone list.

Me, I plan on getting a hobby. I'm going to build those little boats in bottles and make puppets. It should be a welcome distraction from being a fifth year senior (I feel almost ashamed typing it - what would my OnTrack! advisor say?).

So, it's time to start saying adios. Make your good-byes count, because who knows who you'll see again? It's a big, bad world, and I am somewhat thankful I get to stay in the playground for just a little bit longer.

See you in 101 next year!