My last day was the perfect summation, really the textbook epitome, of my entire college career. I actually laughed out loud to myself as I walked out of the exam (and then called Michael and my mom so they could laugh too). Let me explain.
Today, I had a presentation on my internship this semester at 10:30 and then a final exam for my Research Methods class at 1. Last night, I sat down with every intention of studying for my final...but then I decided I needed a mental break and watched the Sons of Anarchy finale (dude, wut, Jax I love you so much)... and then the Pretty Little Liars Christmas special... and then Modern Family... and then New Girl. "Whatever," I said aloud to Jax Teller, "I have like an hour and a half between my presentation and final to study."
So today, as I'm running like 2 minutes late for my presentation, which was NOT MY FAULT by the way. I kid you not, I had ample time, like 15 minutes early. Then I got stuck behind this little white car who was a shitty driver and obviously not familiar with Madison's streets (IL license plate, friggin FIBs). And then they turned right, into the parking garage I park in. Not making this up, I thought to myself "dude, of course they're turning into the lot too, watch them take the last spot." This bitch rolls down her window, presses the button for a parking ticket, the machine spits out a ticket, she takes the ticket, the gate goes up, and she drives in. I pull up, I roll down my window, I press the button for the parking ticket, and the machine says "LOT FULL." R U KIDDING ME?!!!! R U RLY KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW? I'm pretty sure that was a higher power's way of telling me "LOL your last day is not gonna be that easy, pal." Also, I'm still waiting for TLC to contact me about my pitch for a new show, starring me, entitled "Midwest Medium."
Anyways, I drive around to check the other two parking ramps I usually park in, both full. Classic. I decide to gamble, since I am now going to be late, and park at a 25 minute meter. Even though the presentations were supposed to last an hour, my rationale was "There's like a 40% (25/60 mins) chance that the parking enforcement nazi will come in the next hour while I still have money in the meter. Also it's almost lunch time so maybe they'll be on break. YOLO." Before I leave my car though, I pop my Vyvanse because any attempts to study for my final after the presentation without it would be fruitless.
So I stroll in to the presentation 5 minutes late, apologize for my tardiness, explaining the parking debacle. I legitimately got so wrapped up in my frustration while telling my professor about the bitch stealing my spot that when I got to the part when the machine said "LOT FULL" I'm 75% positive I said to my professor "It said lot full and I was like FUCKKKKKKK." I think I said the F bomb. In caps lock. I didn't realize it until like 10 minutes afterwards when replaying the convo in my head. Wutever, I'm graduating.
Anyways, I drive around to check the other two parking ramps I usually park in, both full. Classic. I decide to gamble, since I am now going to be late, and park at a 25 minute meter. Even though the presentations were supposed to last an hour, my rationale was "There's like a 40% (25/60 mins) chance that the parking enforcement nazi will come in the next hour while I still have money in the meter. Also it's almost lunch time so maybe they'll be on break. YOLO." Before I leave my car though, I pop my Vyvanse because any attempts to study for my final after the presentation without it would be fruitless.
So I stroll in to the presentation 5 minutes late, apologize for my tardiness, explaining the parking debacle. I legitimately got so wrapped up in my frustration while telling my professor about the bitch stealing my spot that when I got to the part when the machine said "LOT FULL" I'm 75% positive I said to my professor "It said lot full and I was like FUCKKKKKKK." I think I said the F bomb. In caps lock. I didn't realize it until like 10 minutes afterwards when replaying the convo in my head. Wutever, I'm graduating.
The only other girl there did her 20 minute presentation first. Hers was so boring and sounded like such a dumb internship. Also she's 20 and just got engaged. Bye. My turn. About 5 minutes into my 20 minute presentation, my Vyvanse kicks in. Full force. Empty stomach. Yo, I turned into straight Brett Bennett rambling on and on and on with so much enthusiasm about my internship(!!!!)
When I finished, I pulled out my phone, 12:03pm. I SPENT APPROXIMATELY 60 MINUTES STRAIGHT UP TALKING. Whoops, sorry other girl and professor.
When I finished, I pulled out my phone, 12:03pm. I SPENT APPROXIMATELY 60 MINUTES STRAIGHT UP TALKING. Whoops, sorry other girl and professor.
If you're doing the math here, by the time I got to my car (no ticket!!! Sports!!), got back to my apartment, and started studying, I had like 30 minutes to study before I had to leave to get to my final on time. Sped skimmed 4 chapters of lecture slides like Spencer Reed from Criminal Minds, rolled into my final right on time, finished the exam in exactly 19 minutes, walked out. It was easy, I knew probably 90% of the answers with 100% confidence. Walked out of the exam laughing. THAT is the story of my life. Procrastinate. Half ass something. Bull shit something. Pull it off in the last second. There is really no other way I would rather end my college career, it was so poetic. (But in all honesty, I do seriously wonder sometimes where I would be right now if I had always put in as much time and effort into my studies as my peers. Probably Harvard. *hairflip*)
I digress. If you're still with me, props. This is a Vyvanse fueled post. But as I walked out of that building I was like "Wow, my college days are really over. The best days of my life, the stories I'm supposed to tell at boring parties to impress coworkers for the next 50 years, are over. Now I am an old, unemployed (kinda), struggling emergent adult. Fudge. What if I forget all the good stories and they're lost forever??? Then lightbulb! I will blog it! I will make a post for each year of my college life and include all the funniest stories and all the lessons I learned along the way.
So here I am.
First, I want to apologize to any family members and also to anyone who thinks the sun shines out of my butt (it does). Many of these stories and lessons involve consumption of alcohol and bad decisions, as many of the best stories do. They don't always paint me in the best light, but in order to maintain the authenticity and integrity of these memories, I must be honest and tell them in full detail.
Grandma and Grandpa, please don't write me out of your will. Abby and Ally, learn from my mistakes. Mom and Dad......idk sorry, unconditional love, right? /: Friends who I may mention, if you would like me to change your name as to not destroy your professional careers and probably whole life, please let me know.
K.
Here we go.
I'm sorry.
I digress. If you're still with me, props. This is a Vyvanse fueled post. But as I walked out of that building I was like "Wow, my college days are really over. The best days of my life, the stories I'm supposed to tell at boring parties to impress coworkers for the next 50 years, are over. Now I am an old, unemployed (kinda), struggling emergent adult. Fudge. What if I forget all the good stories and they're lost forever??? Then lightbulb! I will blog it! I will make a post for each year of my college life and include all the funniest stories and all the lessons I learned along the way.
So here I am.
First, I want to apologize to any family members and also to anyone who thinks the sun shines out of my butt (it does). Many of these stories and lessons involve consumption of alcohol and bad decisions, as many of the best stories do. They don't always paint me in the best light, but in order to maintain the authenticity and integrity of these memories, I must be honest and tell them in full detail.
Grandma and Grandpa, please don't write me out of your will. Abby and Ally, learn from my mistakes. Mom and Dad......idk sorry, unconditional love, right? /: Friends who I may mention, if you would like me to change your name as to not destroy your professional careers and probably whole life, please let me know.
K.
Here we go.
I'm sorry.
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