Seventh semester. Huh. A few weeks ago, Stute Weekend was wrapping up just as the RAs were moving in for training, and as the lull of summer campus came to a close, my wise Editor in Chief pointed out, “I can’t really remember what I was doing the first day of class last semester.” The details of whatever I was doing during the beginning of not just last semester but the previous six semesters have since slipped my mind; my very first college class being the exception. It was in this dark room in the North Building with those awful little desks that were attached to the seat. The desk was not the good type of desk-seat combo that is fun to crack your back on, but the evil variant where the desk continues along under your right arm to connect with the back of the desk chair, and there’s never enough room for your exam and cover sheet (it’s a bigger battle than you might think). I remember my ears filtering out the teacher, wait no, it’s the professor now—who was probably glossing over something important in the syllabus–and thinking, “So this is it…college.”
Oddly, I feel the same this week. As a freshly minted senior, I am only 75% of the way to my degree, but I can’t shake the mixed feelings regarding the fact that my college days are more behind than ahead, especially when I think of how far away a Red and Gray Café chicken parm panini (r.i.p.) or a General Chemistry in-class group worksheet feels. I really hope I remember my “last firsts” of these last two semesters here well, but evidently, that’s not how the Pierce cookie tends to crumble.
A few days ago, I finished up my internship with my first ‘big girl’ commute. I’ve always found joy in making little landmarks and/or sayings in my head for commutes I make regularly, each with their own corresponding estimate on how much time is left in my trip, but as I drove my resented 40-minute return to Hoboken for the final time, I missed the first of my two key landmarks. I did not rejoice at the congestion relief of the “Nutley Nuts” finally getting off of Route 3 at the exit to Nutley, NJ– I was too preoccupied with how this was my last time driving the commute.
I know a big transition period is coming, but in my experience, it is not the final day, nor the first day that I remember best. It’s the recurring friendship ‘rituals’ like Morelia Paletas, yoga class or trivia night with the people I love, weekly in-class worksheets, and chicken parm paninis that stick with me. I want to set the intention of being present and enjoying the little details, so hopefully I don’t get too caught up in the imminent life change and miss what is right in front of me. There will be plenty of time for nostalgia later.
