By Graham Ravdin
We all know it?TMs there. Sometimes we talk about it, but other times it lingers?”tacit. Every spring, it sweeps the campus with the velocity of an exceptionally staunch virus. We know other people are infected, but no, it?TMs never us. The first step to recovery is acceptance: I?TMve got Itis. Senioritis, that is.
What is Itis? Itis manifests itself differently in its numerous hosts. Some seniors resort to the ?oeseven-day weekend?? lifestyle; others take up esoteric hobbies like racquetball. I would by and large portray Itis as some dizzying cocktail of hyper-inspiration and functional alcoholism tempered with a solid dose of sloth. Inspired by angst regarding our post-college lives, common sense rebels and finds a place in the bottom of our priorities.
Okay, so anyone who has seen Reality Bites or any litany of half-cooked Indie fare knows that after college our lives will be meandering, chockfull of irony and accompanied by really good soundtracks. Boo-hoo. In fact, someone probably writes this very article in The Mac Weekly at least once a semester. So why am I doing it now? I have no defense, besides that the superfluous is soothing: being the first to do anything makes me nervous. So here I am at the rumination station, wondering: what does this college afterlife look like?
There are little things. Macalester has engineered everything with precision. Like, you can barely walk two feet in my Kirk room without tripping over an outlet. I like outlets. Will my next place have enough outlets?
There are big things. The biggest thing I think is the shortcuts. Shortcuts in having an intuitive understanding with others that develops living with people in the same place at the same time doing the same silly dance for four years. It is these shortcuts that slice through the expository redundancies to which we are often bound in unfamiliar moments. After college, I fear I will have to carry around handouts in order to begin to communicate in under a week all the ironies and wildness that is being a 20-something on the verge of his quarter-life crisis.
Some things don?TMt change. You will still be embroiled in the stickiness of trying to grow up into an adult sometime before you die, then realizing no one else has done it, and you?TMre not going to either. You will still remember how to tie your hi-tops. What you won?TMt have are all the other kids who walk in the same hi-tops you do.
That is why in spite of its self-annihilating tendencies Itis deserves no cure. It lets you value what will be gone after graduating to get you to the next place?”wherever and whatever that is with airy exhaustion. So go ahead: act belligerent in front of your professors at school events. Sleep through the early class, the afternoon class and the night class. Play racquetball. It?TMs okay, you?TMve got Itis, and and that is one thing that doesn?TMt need to be fixed.
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