Satire: These must be the glory days

As I sat with knees drawn to my chest in the new holding cell — I mean study pod — in the School of Environmental Sustainability study space, pushing through a headache to finish an essay due on Halloween, it hit me. 

This is it. This is the best time of my life. 

Massaging my chronically clenched jaw, I reflected on the sentiment many a cousin and coworker expressed to me in the months leading up to this semester: “Senior year of college was the best time of my life.” 

Now nearly halfway through the year, I completely agree. 

Per frequent suggestion, I’ve taken the concept of “soaking it all in” to heart. I spend as much time as humanly possible on campus, memorizing the location of each vending machine and testing the comfort of nearly every chair in the Cudahy Library basement.

At this point of my collegiate career, I feel I can call Loyola home, being comfortable enough to do a good deal of my eating and intermittent sleeping here. 

In the midst of 12-hour work stretches, I find the time to try out many of the local hot spots Rogers Park is known for, like the energy drink fridge at 7/11, or the candy aisle at 7/11 or, on occasion, the hot food bar at 7/11. 

When I’m forced to be away from writing-intensive courses, internships, student organizations and on-campus jobs, I love being able to hang out with my friends. 

As incredible as it is that we all live within a five-minute radius of each other for likely the last time ever, I appreciate that we’ve instead tried to sharpen our storytelling abilities by speaking only at intersection crossings, making the most of the four collective minutes we’re all free to catch up.

If anything, my friendships have only grown stronger in this final year — it’s true, as they say, how distance makes the heart grow fonder. Besides, we’ll have plenty of time to chop it up after we graduate. 

Ah, yes, I’ve said the “G” word. 

While some say it looms, I see the imminent threat of graduation as motivation. Each of the one hundred thousand times I’ve been asked, “What are your plans after graduation?” I’m reminded to appreciate the beauty of senior year — a time when I can straight up lie about my answer and no one really expects me to follow through with it. 

After all, I’m not super interested in what happens after college. I’d trade complete independence and a semblance of work-life balance for around-the-clock Sakai notifications and the comforting omnipresence of Loyola administration any day of the week. 

I’m not looking forward to a time when I have to face rising living costs in Chicago, especially plagued by student loans in a dire job market. As a senior, I get to live here without thinking about paying off my loans because I’m too busy racking them up. 

(Editor’s parents’ note: The writer does indeed have to think about her loans now and has been made aware of this.)

Thanks to the delight I’ve taken in my senior status, nothing scares me. I’m not perturbed by common pitfalls of the year, like “senior slide.” I don’t even know what that is. I’m certainly in no rush to leave school by any means of transport, slide or otherwise.

So for now, I’m going to take being a senior in stride. I’m living unencumbered by creeping thoughts of “Do I actually want to pursue what I’ve spent an arm and a leg to study?” and “What happens if all my friends get jobs elsewhere and move away forever?” — I’m too busy having as much fun as everyone said I’d be having.