They say time flies when you’re having fun, but holy crap. I have whiplash from how fast the past three years went by. But here we are, one final year of three-day weekends and the freedom of choosing our own schedules. Before we know it, keg stands, ice luges and Faegan’s flip night will be a bittersweet thing of the past.  

Thanks to John Mayer, I’ve been banking on the ‘there’s no such thing as the real world’ ideal since the sixth grade. While I would love continuing to hold onto that small glimmer of hope, it’s not possible. After completing a few internships, I’ve seen a glimpse of what’s waiting for us after graduation. The real world’s most certainly real and, in my opinion, it’s waiting to suck the fun right out of us — along with rent money, taxes and medical bills, which most likely will be a product of destroyed livers and missing brain cells. Sorry, Mayer, I love the song, but you’ve filled my head with lies. As it turns out, not all of us can become freewheeling man sluts with magic fingers that induce euphoria at the strum of a guitar.

I can’t help but recall the wondrous time that was the end of high school, where everyone expressed such sincere excitement for what lay ahead of them. Endless inspirational talks have led you to believe every road in life is ready for discovery, a million opportunities are just within your reach, success is your destiny. And now? Well, I don’t really sense the same level of excitement from family or friends. It’s more of a slightly enthusiastic — or shrill — ‘Have you found a job?’ followed by a solemn, somewhat encouraging, ‘Oh, you’ll figure it out.’ Sweet, thanks.

As they stand, my postgrad plans will have me living in a refrigerator box on a New York City street corner, while hopelessly searching for a job. I’ve narrowed it down to that or the Peace Corps — granted I’m accepted into the Peace Corps or am able to find a quality refrigerator box. Chances are I’ll be back home, waiting for scientists to figure out that whole time travel machine so that I can blast right back to freshman year. I’ve probably depressed all the seniors and scared all the underclassmen, but no need to worry yet. The silver lining is that we still have the whole year ahead of us. And I’m looking to crunk the sh*t out of it. (Note: Lauren Tousignant does not actually know how to crunk.) But seriously, this is our last year of semi-irresponsibility. And if the crazies of the world who predict 2012 will be the end are correct, then it will literally be our last year. In that case, we really have nothing to worry about. Cheers to that. Make the most of this year, seniors. And I’ll see you at Chuck’s for the last first weekend of the year.

Lauren Tousignant is a senior communications and rhetorical studies and writing major. Her column appears every Thursday. She can be reached at letousig@syr.edu.