The senior year of college is an emotional roller coaster that you can’t get off of until you cross the stage at graduation. (Then you enter another ride called life and I just haven’t been on that ride long enough to give you the appropriate theme park metaphor…my apologies.) As much as you love your friends and your school and your classes, you’re also freaking out about what you want to do after college and if what you want to do is right. And if you’re anything like me, you’re probably suffering from a killer case of the “what-ifs”.

What if I go to grad school?

What if I move to NYC without a job?

What if my boyfriend breaks up with me?

The what-ifs are never-ending and you’ll find them creeping up during class, while you’re at happy hour and  even while you’re hooking up. It’s a nasty sickness that’s hard to cure. Luckily CollegeFashion has a handy dandy guide to figuring it all out. Check it out here!

“Is it supposed to be this hard?” I whined to my mom in an email on Tuesday night. I remember in years gone by that seniors generally didn’t seem like they were having problems until the second semester, when the crunch really hits. But sure enough, Tuesday afternoon saw me sitting on the floor, looking despondently at the mess in my room while scarfing down Lucky Charms like my life depended on it.

Taking 20 credits, working two jobs, and writing your thesis doesn’t leave for a whole lot of free time, and that’s a pretty hard thing to adjust to. I usually like to procrastinate – I work better with a gun to my head, it seems. But now I have to work in advance, because I don’t have time to do things the way I normally do.

This weekend, I don’t even have time to drink. What is my world coming to?

As for lessons learned these past two weeks or so, I realized the value of backing your sh*t up like your life depends on it. My thesis chapter was due on Monday. I didn’t finish it until Tuesday. Now, because I have an older version of OpenOffice (a free version of Microsoft Office, essentially), when my computer decided to spazz out, I lost 11 out of 12 pages.

Cue comfort food binging. Read More »