It seems like every summer between grade levels in college was just a nice break from reality before the chaos starts all over again. But then suddenly, all these carefree summers have passed and before you know it, you're months away from your final year of your undergrad.

This final year is commonly known as the last year of your youth, the last year of doing whatever you want, the last year it's socially acceptable to go out on a Sunday night. This year is most commonly known as senior year.

It seems that as soon as it became March of my junior year, I turned into this old, wise soul that could help lead all the young-ins down that road that is college. I started whipping out advice to my younger friends at any given opportunity and began to cover my ears and sing whenever someone even muttered the words "senior year". As the weeks went on and junior year officially ended, my habits got a little weird.

You refuse to meet with your advisor because you don't want to solidify your senior year schedule. If I don't finish it, then it's not really happening.

Telling incoming juniors how lucky they are with technically two years left of school. Then there's you, the nostalgic old person with one year left.

You experience a quarter-life crisis. Yes, mom, it's a thing. Elite Daily said so.

The drive home from campus post-finals with your younger sibling turns into a full-on unsolicited life talk. Your sibling's only response: "You're like a year older than me, shut up."

You start talking about how old you are to your parents... only to catch yourself speaking about old-age to someone inching towards their 60th birthday.

The idea of being a real-adult stops sounding like a fun fantasy and becomes something you start actually planning for.

You scroll through Facebook with complete confusion as to how these little kids are about to be freshmen in college. Who let you out of your high school cage?

You used to anticipate tailgate season, now you're practically dreading it. You're telling me this is the last time I can appropriately dance on an elevated surface?! Say it ain't so.

You have a slight heart-attack each time you come across a college graduation picture of your childhood friend who's a year older than you. I could've sworn we were getting on the school-bus to middle school yesterday.

Summers used to be something you hoped would fly by, but now you want the next four months to go by as slow as possible.

Nostalgia hits you hard and you begin to dig through old pictures from high school graduation. Nothing quite like looking at a picture of your 18-year-old self and remembering just how clueless you were about what was about to happen next.