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The whole premise of this site is to essentially have a platform for all of us to bitch about how shitty cube life is and how we’d give up our firstborn to go back to college. There are, however, a few key things that give us a flutter of hope deep in our bellies, and these things remind us that it’s not so bad. Perhaps going back to college right now would, in fact, be a disaster. For me, graduation is one of those things. The actual process and ceremony is the WORST. I use this time now as a reminder that I should be six percent grateful for my cube, my celibacy, and Seamless.
Getting Your Cap And Gown
Ha, the biggest “fuck you” about this is that they make you do it, like, a month before the ceremony, just to remind you that the end is near. Oh, you also have to pay $40 for a shitty piece of plastic that will either expedite the sublimation process of alcohol seeping from your pores if it’s warm or forsake your soul to leave your nipples hard enough to key a car if it’s cold. LOL, you lose either way.
If it’s actually you who’s throwing up in your shoes, consider it an appropriate visceral reaction to this milestone. It’s one last kick in the ass from school, and it’s an appropriate welcome from the real world. Bring some gum to the ceremony, kids.
Someone Who Has No Vested Interest In You Preaching To You
There are plenty of highly qualified people who give commencement speeches every year. Many of them are even funny or attempt to be inspirational. But think about it: even if this person is an alum, he or she is so far removed from you–and probably the school–that you most likely have nothing in common besides the college’s name on your diploma and that neither of you actually want to be there at the moment. You’ll also be too hungover to understand any words larger than three syllables. If you’re at a respectable school, they will be peppered into the speech way, way too frequently.
Hungover around Mom. And Grandma. And perhaps annoying, younger cousins who comment loudly on how weird you smell. You’re also expected to look presentable and seem proud and jovial and pose for lots of pictures. This is my nightmare.
Moving Your Shit
This is just a big old middle finger to your body and heart. It’s like, “Hey, good work for the past four years. I’m glad you celebrated so hard last night. Now go pack up your house that literally has not been touched since you finished unpacking. Have fun throwing away all the shitty, useless things you decided to keep for “ambiance” purposes, and have fun watching the townies pick through your memories on the curb. Oh, and you’ll definitely pull something.” Sick.
This is pretty self-explanatory. If you’re thrilled to leave campus, then you did it all wrong, guys. Misery certainly loves company, but there is not a feeling that rivals the last few hours and minutes at school.
Students Go Back And They Don’t Care That You Left
I didn’t realize this one would kick me in the ass until the fall when all those little bastards got to return and I didn’t. It’s like my class was never there when, clearly, my class was the best class to ever fill those halls. They don’t care that you’re gone. They probably don’t even remember you. And you’ll (appropriately) get looks of pity whenever you return.