the future freaks me out.

Yesterday marked one week since I graduated from college.  It hasn’t really hit me yet…even though I sat on the campus green in my cap and gown with 989 of my classmates, it still feels surreal. It still feels like I’ll be going back to school in the fall, and that graduation was just a silly little ceremony we did for kicks.

So now I’m living at home and am currently unemployed. Not exactly where I thought I would be post-Marist when I created my 4-year plan as a freshman, but that was in 2005, when the economy wasn’t so scary. I’m actively looking for a job, any job, but it’s scary nonetheless to be a 21-year-old college graduate who can’t even get a job at the mall.

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seasonal anxiety

I usually hate spring. I don’t know why, but something about the snow melting and the ground thawing and the trees budding does not appeal to me. I’m a fall and winter kind of girl, so the transition into warmer weather is always hard for me. Since coming to college, the anxiety of spring has grown significantly, knowing that each time the weather gets warmer, another year is over and I’m one step closer to the real world.

I try to stall the season change as long as I can – I won’t wear shorts until it’s at least 70 degrees out, I picket against the wearing of sandals (although that’s a whole other story,) I refuse to do outdoor-related activities and get very sanctimonious about not participating, etc.

So someone please explain to me why this year I want the weather to get warmer. Maybe it’s the deluge of snow we’ve received in the past month and a half; maybe it’s the fact that for a few weeks it was never higher than 20 degrees outside; maybe it’s because I’m off to the Dominican Republic in less than a month…I honestly don’t know. All I know is that I just spent the past 75 minutes of my World Religions class staring out the window at Route 9, wishing the snow would melt and I can retire my North Face for the season.

It’s funny, because I shouldn’t want spring to come this year. Not only does it signal the end of another academic year, it signals the end of my academic career. The dreaded g-word is 100 days away, (thanks for that terrifying email, Career Services!) so I should be wishing for an arctic blast of winter to prolong the inevitable.

Who knows, but maybe I’ll be less sanctimonious this year about outdoor events : )