I finished my degree a year early, and it wasn’t on purpose either. I knew exactly what I wanted to do and what classes I wanted to take, and so I dove right in my freshman year and didn’t want to wait until sophomore year to take the class that looked so interesting as the course description dangled in front of me.
This was a repeated theme throughout my college career.
At the start of my sophomore year, I begged my professor to let me take her 300-level literature course. She was more than happy to oblige, smiling as she signed her name at the bottom of my “permission to enroll” form. That was the best class I ever took.
At the close of my sophomore year, I was just three classes away from finishing the whole degree: two 300-level literature courses and the one class that has been known to make every student beg for mercy, sanity, and sleep: capstone.
“Why not just take all three and be done?” my advisor asked me.
A grim look passed over my face.
But I did it anyway.
Sometimes, I do honestly regret finishing my degree so early. I don’t miss the sleepless nights, the literal gallons of coffee, or conferencing with my professor every week and having to tell her about these vices. I remember all these things vividly and am amazed that I not only made it through, but made it through in one piece.
As students, we’re constantly told not to rush everything, to enjoy our college experience, to hold tight to our friends, our roommates, our families. No one ever says to cherish our degrees, though. They make it sound like our classes are important but what really makes the college experience is the people, the events, and the outings. These are the things we’re supposed to never forget.
This is only half true. Yes, I will forget exactly what homework I was doing on November 10. I’ll forget how many nights in a row I didn’t sleep, and maybe someday, I’ll realize that my senior capstone paper really didn’t matter all that much in the grand scheme of things, but I will remember how important my friends were during what was probably the most stressful semester I ever had and ever will have. I’ll always remember my girlfriends taking me for midnight McDonald’s runs if I only finished this page or this paragraph.
If you’re reading this, you know who you are. Thank you.
Despite all this stress, though, I do genuinely miss being in my field. There’s something very strange about wandering around campus and not even having any classes in the building where you practically lived for several semesters. If nothing else, being this wandering reed has taught me just how much I love what I do, and has reinstated a love for literature that can be hard to feel when you’re on cup of coffee number eight. Press on, dear readers. You will miss it when it’s over.
