30 years from now

I’ve fallen ill with an extreme case of Senioritis as of late. It’s not the general academic laziness variety people talk about; I still find being a student invigorating. Burnout isn’t a symptom of my ailment either — I feel energized and excited about many aspects of my life right now. I am just old, creaky, achy, and set in my ways…at least scholastically. I’ve built my habits. I’ve been (un)luckily gifted a skillset that enables some procrastination, and when provided with the option to hang out with my friends for a little longer one night at the expense of an isolated study marathon the next day, I usually opt for the above. Fewer things are better than hanging out with the people I love, and I harbor a fondness for teaching myself a topic from beginning to end, like a storybook. It’s a win-win situation that drives a hard argument. I feel that I’ve come to know what does and doesn’t stick in my brain long term, and recently, I’ve struggled to trudge through the activities or exercises that feel repetitious or I can’t immediately see are helping me grow. 

My fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Jay, was instrumental in my love for self-expression through writing. Above the pencil sharpener near the classroom 14 door, she had a laminated poster that read, “30 years from now, it won’t matter what shoes you wore, how your hair looked, or the jeans you bought. What will matter is what you learned and how you used it.” My nine-year-old self clearly pondered this notion heavily, as the phrase has stuck with me. What struck me about the phrase then was that I should be less self-conscious, but now that I have my own credit card to buy the clothes I like and am no longer at the mercy of what my mom picked out at the store, the message is more moving. As a kid, you do not have a ton of say in how your day goes, where you go, what you wear, or what resources you have access to. I’m lucky to have had a secure hand dealt to me, but either way, the quote applies more to a young adult who gets to decide how to spend their time and money. 

I don’t think Mrs. Jay would be pleased to see me using this quote to justify my newfound laxness surrounding my academics, but I do want to make the deliberate choice to spend my time in ways I’ll remember 30 years from now. I know that certain sections of my ME475 Mechanical Engineering Systems lab report are not going to cross my mind in the next 30 days. I’ve formatted hundreds of data tables and written dozens of abstracts in my time as a student. I have no problem writing the Theory and Experimental Design section of the report, where I get to learn about new technologies, their applications, and methodologies, but I no longer have the drive to push myself to dedicate a ton of my efforts to the more rote aspects. I still begrudgingly complete them, but I’m aware I’m not giving my 100% in the way I have up until now. Sorry to whoever is grading! I know I do not have my degree yet, and rote aspects of my work will never be beneath me — but I know I am hungry for something a little less familiar.