freak out
05.09.04 • comment • trackback
So I’m going to graduate soon, and by “soon,” I mean a year from now. I’m already freaking out. No single event, short of the grim spectre of death, has ever instilled this much fear in me. Three years ago, I was more than ready to depart high school. Save for a couple of very good friends, there was nothing holding me there. BU, however, is a different story—I love it here.
More than that, I know about as much about my post-undergrad plans as I know about milking cows, and I assure you that what I know about milking cows wouldn’t fill a pamphlet, let alone the bucket they use for the milk. Never in my life, not once, have I ever looked twelve months into the future and been greated by nothing but a question mark. It’s not a friendly question mark either, like the one frivously exploited by Matthew Lesko to make millions. It’s the kind of question mark that comes after sentences like, “Do you have any next of kin?” or “Will they buy the self-defense plea?”
So aside from working for BU over the summer, I’ve decided to make this Jon’s Summer of Options. Priority number one is to hunt down an internship for the fall. I should have tried to find something for summer, but what can I say? I dropped the ball. Through a combination of luck and junior standing, I have created an unholy configuration of four-day weekends for myself next fall, which will give me enough time for an internship if I forsake my part-time job.
Priority two involves getting the wheels turning for grad school/real life. I’d write about my plans for that as well, but when I start to think about it all the synapses in my brain start to misfire, and the resultant electrical disturbance reboots my laptop.