Somehow, we aren’t freshman anymore. Sophomore year came and went. Junior year flew by. Even senior fall is no longer. As the date of our inevitable graduation draws nearer, it is officially senior spring. Senior spring. The final moments of our undergraduate careers. What lies beyond that over-hyped walk across the stage is a world completely different than the one we’re living in now. It’s a world of responsibilities and stress, where drinks cost more than two dollars and it’s not normal to go out on a Wednesday. A world where you’re expected to where clothes made of material other than spandex and where your reputation could affect your professional life. It’s a scary thought, but thankfully that day is still a few months away.
All we can do now is try to appreciate what we’ve got beforeit’s gone and live by the words senior spring. The next two months of your life should be governed by those two words. They’re your motto, they’re your mantra, and they’re your purpose.
Any and all questions should be answered by them. Why are you going out the night before an exam? Senior Spring. Why are you taking a shot at 11 in the morning? Senior Spring. Why are you ordering five boxes of pizza at 2am? Senior.
Spring. Go out on Mondays. Yell in public. Cut in lines for the bar and when people shoot you dirty looks, stare straight back and mouth the words “senior spring.” Send weird and embarrassing drunk texts. When you read them in the morning, remind yourself that you’ll never see these people again in a few months anyway. Don’t apologize, just text “senior spring.” Spend an entire day laying on the couch with your best friends sharing stories from the night before and plans for the future and cherishing the time you have left all in the same city together. Don't bother changing out of your pajamas and order in when you're hungry. When your parents ask you what you did with you day, tell them "senior spring."Skip class so much you forget you have it. Realize that was a mistake and go to office hours to beg for forgiveness. When your professor asks what happened, simply respond, “senior spring.” You almost have 160 credit hours anyway; it’s not like your GPA is changing. Go to every sporting event you can even if you don’t really like sports or understand the rules. Cheer so loudly when we score that you
scare the family sitting two rows down. Yell at players that you don’t know. No one loves their university more than a second semester senior. The freshman may think they do, but that’s just because they have no idea how much that love will grow. The alumni may think they do, but that’s because they have forgotten how strong their allegiance once was. And when we win, feel the same elation the senior players feel, and when they walk off the courts, chant “senior spring.” This is it, my friends. This is where it all ends. The final moments of our youth. Our last chance to be absolutely ridiculous and not think twice. After this comes jobs, responsibility, marriage, kids. Don’t let it go to waste. Don’t let it slip by. Don’t let an exam for a professor you will never remember stand in the way of a semester you will never forget. Don’t think twice. Don’t even think once. Only think these two words: senior spring.
