What You Think Senior Year Will Be Like Versus What It’s Really Like

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The time to graduate rolls around in every senior’s life comes sooner than she expects. Are you filled with excitement as you vigorously work on your résumé and schedule interviews? Are you sitting in your bathtub eating a gallon of ice cream and crying because you don’t have enough money in your bank account to pay for Netflix this month? Probably the latter, but who’s judging? In this glorious last semester of the best time of your life, there are many situations you’ll deal with. Here’s an outlook on some things that you probably have already encountered.

The (Last) First Day Of Class

What You Think Will Happen: Your first class is senior level. You’re in a tee and yoga pants. You don’t give a shit about what you look like. You’re so hungover, and everyone — including the teacher and your mom — is proud that you actually showed up. If you leave the room to puke, it’s acceptable because you probably aren’t the first person to do so.

What Will Actually Happen: You put off this geography class until senior year because even as a naïve eighteen-year-old, you thought it was stupid. (You’re a PR major for goodness’ sake, who the hell cares about which states the Mississippi River runs through?) Everyone else in this class is a freshman. Somehow these girls found time to pick out a cute outfit, do their makeup, and curl their hair. Not to your surprise, there’s a group of them taking a selfie in the corner. Vom.

The First Night Out

What You Think Will Happen: Your friends decide they want to go hang out at a bar instead of hitting the party scene. The hottie at the end of the bar notices you and sends a drink down your way. After you flash your winning smile at him, he walks over and starts a conversation. Fast-forward a year: You’re engaged to a doctor and you never have to work again in your life.

What Will Actually Happen: You show up to the fraternity pregame that your roommate forced you to go to. Luckily, you drank half a bottle of vodka before even leaving the apartment, so things are looking up. Upon entering, you realize you only know six guys there and the current president is two years younger than you are. The first eighteen-year-old approaches you and you feel like Jennifer Lopez in whatever cougar movie she’s starring in this month. He says he has a bottle of Malibu in his room and asks if you want to join. You may be a little tipsy, but that still sounds awful. The time finally comes for everyone to head to the bar. You feel hot and you’re ready to dance with your friends. Who cares if you’re stumbling? Everyone is probably drunker than you are anyway, right? Fuck, your drink is empty. Okay, it’s time to flirt your way into a free drink. The only guys here are under the age of twenty-one and your hopes are slowly being crushed. Then it happens. A cutie starts walking your way. You knew you still had it. It doesn’t matter that you’re literally the oldest person at the party. Wait — why is he passing you up? Why is he going to talk to that freshman in a bottom-tier sorority? Whatever. Thankfully, there’s a pizza place next door that will always love you and be there for you. Fuck this place.

Your Last Bid Day

What You Think Will Happen:
Your entire family comes to get ready at your apartment. God, they’re perfect. Your mind-reading little brought a bottle of vodka. How will you ever live without her? The grandlittle bought everyone matching tulle for their hair. You show up as a posse to welcome the precious new ones. Your grandlittle squeals as her rush crush arrives. “Let’s take family pictures!” someone shouts. You don’t even almost fall off of the chair you’re standing on to be at the top of the stack picture. Winning. The whole family, including your prospective great-grandbaby, comes out with you afterward to hit the bars.

What Will Actually Happen: You show up and remember your whole pledge class (except for that one weird legacy) stopped showing up to shit months ago. Yay! Kidding. This sucks. Chapter pictures start and you hear some little bitch ask who you are. Who am I? I MADE THIS CHAPTER! You go into a blind rage from all of the drinking you priorly did alone and are asked to leave because you just made three new members cry. Cool.

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Life, liberty, and the pursuit of red wine

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