Graduation is a time of reflection. It’s when you take one last longing look at the University of Oregon campus and remember all of the good times. But you know what? It wasn’t all late-night Taco Bell runs and all-nighters fueled by Dutch Freezes and Red Bull. This is the stuff you definitely won’t miss about college life:
“Oh, my god! I’m so busy!”
Never again will you have to suffer hearing these words from a self-proclaimed overachiever whose only real accomplishment this term was penning three heavily edited personal essays for different campus publications. Exhausting yourself doesn’t necessarily beget good work, yet there’s always a person or two who isn’t content to just put their nose to the grindstone — no, they just need to broadcast it to any Tom, Dick and Harry who’ll listen. Good riddance.
Closing Max’s on a bad night
There’s a point during most weekends that every other campus bar empties like the sea as a tsunami approaches the shore. At approximately 12:45 a.m., boozehounds leave Rennie’s, Taylor’s and Webfoot in droves to do one of three things: They either head to Uly’s for a quick bite, retire home for the night or rush to Max’s in order to sing “Sweet Caroline” with a chorus of strangers. It’s crazy fun most nights, but sometimes it goes awry. The worst nights are when it’s raining or drizzling outside, there’s a line that snakes from the bar’s entrance to Ferry Street and they’re charging a cover. Nobody will miss that.
You no longer have to compartmentalize your life into 10-week sections. The downside to this, of course, is that you won’t have a spring, summer or winter break anymore, but who the hell needs that when you get paid time off? Seriously, there’s nothing worse in life than wrapping up a final only to find yourself back at Target a week later buying a new set of mechanical pencils.
Trying to do cool shit that gets you hired while you’re bogged down with 12 to 16-credit workloads
Journalism students, you know this struggle all too well. We’ve all heard professionals from ad agencies to metro newspapers tell you how much harder your lives are than theirs. Why? Because on top of producing top-notch campaigns or exposes on the dangers of over-indulging in cheesy bacon fries at Rennie’s, you’re also trying to wrangle a bunch of other 20-year-olds for a group project that’s due next week. Here’s to finally pursuing your passions without a class schedule getting in the way.
Follow Eder Campuzano on Twitter: @edercampuzano