Being a second-semester senior is strange. There’s no way around it. For those like me who aren’t going to graduate school, there are only a few months left before the real world comes crashing into our lives like a ton of bricks.

The pressure of finding a job makes peaceful procrastination all the more difficult. There’s an unavoidable sense of urgency in the air. After all, there are only so many chances left to run up ridiculous bar tabs at The Tombs with your friends. Or to go the academic route and enroll in that really awesome elective you’ve always wanted to take.

That’s not to say that it’s all darkness and doom in my last semester on the Hilltop. I can’t speak for every senior: There are a few out there who seem to find no greater joy than broadcasting on Facebook about how they can’t wait to break free from the front gates. But I’ve enjoyed my three-and-a-half years at Georgetown immensely. There have been plenty of ups and downs, but there’s no denying that the old cliche about college being the best four years of your life applies to me.

This semester is a chance for seniors to relax a little and enjoy our final months before having to worry about real-world problems. I was fortunate enough to arrive at Georgetown with an absurd number of Advanced Placement credits, so I’m taking just two classes this semester. I’m working two days a week and spending the rest of my time trying to find gainful employment (while simultaneously avoiding phone calls from my parents reminding me that I have yet to find any).

It is the same story for many of my friends and classmates. Teach For America has snatched up some of the best and brightest, and those who have figured their lives out already are anxiously waiting for graduate schools to send gigantic acceptance packets (and tuition bills) their way. We all have to figure out how to balance the demands of our futures with these last moments of college. Because in these last months, we’re still at Georgetown — going to class (some more than others), working, studying and trying to enjoy every last bit of our college experience.

It’s not like second-semester senior year is the only time that people are striving to find a balance between work and play. But what makes this time a combination of special and scary is the growing sense of finality. Never again will we be on this campus taking these classes with this group of people. This is it: This is the apprehension of graduation from high school and moving on to college, magnified to its maximum.

When I was in high school, I at least had some vague notion of what college was like. I thought I knew how to write (I didn’t), I thought I knew how to study (I didn’t), I thought I knew everything there was to know about life as an adult (still don’t) and was reasonably confident that everything would be alright within the structure of a university.

If nothing else, college has taught me how little I know and how many new obstacles I must face as soon as I walk across that stage with my classmates in May. And that fact is more than a little intimidating. Mercifully, college has also taught me how to adapt to radically different circumstances with some semblance of grace.

When I put on that cap and gown in May, an amazing chapter of my life will be over. There will be regrets, to be sure, but nothing that would make me want to take back all of the four years I’ve spent here. In the meantime, I intend on enjoying the twilight of my college years and making sure I keep the number of embarrassing pictures of me on Facebook at an acceptable level while also sorting out my future.

Ultimately, it’s hard to distill what being a second-semester senior really means. It’s different for everyone, I suspect. We all have different anxieties, expectations and challenges to overcome and different ways we want to lead our lives. But I think, in general, the essence of this semester is making every last minute count.

Lawson Ferguson is a senior in the School of Foreign Service. He is the editor of the blog HOYA PARANOIA.

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