The Countdown: 16 weeks left

This column is the first in a series paying tribute to my final semester at N.C . State.

Three and a half years ago, I remember exactly how I prepared for my first week at N.C . State. I had all of my school supplies and books a week before classes started. As soon as the dorms opened, I mapped out the routes to my classes. I may have even taken a trial run or two. I had my schedule committed to memory, section numbers and all. I was ready to start college.

Entering my last semester here, my first week has no semblance of my freshman year. I have none of my books for this semester. I’ve been thinking I should return my rentals from last semester before getting anything for this semester, but who knows when this will happen. School supplies are scarce; if Technician didn’t have so many note pads and orphaned pens lying around the office I’d be lost. Wednesday, I realized 15 minutes before a class started that I was enrolled in it. I’m not ready to leave N.C . State.

You may chalk up my lack of preparedness this semester to a lack of motivation, senioritis or some character flaw, but I chalk it up to severe comfort. A comfort in knowing everything will work out. After three years on campus, there are few surprises. Among other things, you’ll come to realize your shoes will always be flooded when it rains. How does a school priding itself in engineering not have a better drainage system for our sidewalks?

You’ll realize you end up doing everything in group projects and when it comes to tests you’ll always cram. You’ll come to find the regularity in your activities at N.C . State.

Not only does your academic life become regulated by senior year; your social life becomes solidified as well. Your group of friends becomes solidified. Your hangouts become routine: Mondays at Saucer, Taco Tuesday at Cueva , Fayetteville Fridays and, well, Saucer Sundays. Life is good.

There is a comfort in regularity, a power even. You are free from facing the anxiety-producing indecisiveness that comes with inexperience. It’s a comfort that allows you to be one of the last to class, to not frantically take notes on everything your professor says and to miss a day or two and know you’ll be fine.

The comfort becomes so great we begin to fret our inevitable departure from it. To quell this fear some of us take up another major/minor or study aboard for a stay of execution, to hang around just a bit longer. My strategy is a bit different, but like many of my friends, I choose just to not talk about it. Maybe if we never discuss it, then it’ll never happen; maybe Van Wilder had no character flaws.

Contrary to popular belief, it’s not just CHASS majors having difficulty facing the idea of life after their senior year. It’s everyone. Something so big needs to be discussed and Lord knows it’s not something being talked about between us. My roommates and I literally have house rule forbidding the discussion. So let’s have the conversation here.

I’m not going to lie; I’m doing this as much for me as I’m doing it for you. I’ll try my best to avoid being sappy or too nostalgic; I don’t like reading that stuff and I’m guessing you don’t either. I’ll try to infuse the columns with something relevant to each of you, but I’m not making any promises. All I hope is in my columns you’ll take some solace in my problems and thoughts.

Come back at the beginning of every week and I’ll have something for you. I would’ve printed this Monday, but hey, it’s senior year and I’m obviously letting some stuff slide.