I've come to terms with my post-graduation joblessness. I haven't raised a white flag. Hope is not lost. I just understand my career won't be awaiting me, flowers in hand.
The craziest part is I am not concerned - at all.
I know journalism isn't exactly booming at the moment, so my job chances are leaving slim and approaching none. Don't worry about me, I'll figure it out. Why should I waste my time having a heart attack about what isn't in the cards right now?
I know I'm less qualified than others. The difference between me and these well-to-do overachievers is their motivation kicked in long before mine did.
I'm motivated now, but freshman year I only concerned myself with the future when it was Monday, and I drooled at the thought of going to Balls on Thursday. Nothing spells success like hoarding a dozen $1 double bourbons in a two-hour span. Long live my liver.
I've taken my time in college. I've stumbled, failed and stopped showing up to classes on non-test days.
Am I proud? The better question is whether I'm ashamed. I tinkered with the notion for a bit at the end of my junior year, only to figure out I was still wasting time. I refuse to dwell on stupid things I've already done.
Regrets are mental indigestion. It's your brain saying, "Oh God, I should not have eaten that." Take some cerebral Alka-Seltzer, take a deep breath and get yourself back on track toward the goal we all share - graduation.
There's more to a college degree than ink and paper. Don't reduce it to an impersonal rubber stamp that confirmed you trudged through a monotonous course load.
When I get it, my degree will be the hard evidence that I grew up while I was here. It will represent the choices I've made, good and bad.
My piece of paper will show the versatility necessary to simultaneously work 20-plus hours a week, write a column, play intramurals, travel with and play for a sport club, be an active president of a student organization and take 15 credit hours, while still finding time to nap, play a little beer pong and not alienate my girlfriend without having a panic attack.
My freshman self is long dead. Good riddance, screw that guy.
My degree will never symbolize failure, as a student or a person. It won't hint at struggle or remind me of dropped classes. It will highlight perseverance.
A degree is validation. This place is teaching you to balance, and your piece of paper will show that you had the resilience to plow through four years of a schedule packed tighter than midtown on ladies' night.
The American job market has been crippled, and the economic bounce-back we're all crossing our fingers for isn't just around the bend. Even if you get a cushy job, the chance of a layoff in your near future is possible. It hurts to think about.
College isn't four-year workforce boot camp. It's a ride. Once we're out of college, we aren't back to square one; we're there for the first time.
I made the mistake of relaxing too much. Every day, I see people who don't relax at all. The middle ground is what we should be searching for, not a cornflower blue tie or a three-car garage.
Adam Wynn is a journalism senior. His column appears on Fridays.
