I am tired. It's 4:16 a.m., and a number of my capstone classmates are still in the design lab working on final magazine prototypes.
Walking out of the
Missourian after many late hours of design work typically means I'll be a walking zombie the next day, but recently I've felt sad as I make my way through the empty hallways. This is the end. In a month I won't have to complain about the lack of sleep resulting from my schoolwork because I won't have any.
I've done pretty good in school, and it's because I've put so much effort into most of what I do. I wish I could have gotten more design experience earlier, but I was too busy working as both a Peer Adviser and blog editor for
SuretyBonds.com. My boss offered me a full time position last summer, which has made working through my last two semesters much more manageable.
If only I knew then what I know now...
Having a job waiting for me definitely influenced my decision not to continue school right after graduation. Although I'm definitely ready to move on to the next chapter of my life, I can't help but feel nostalgic about my experiences as a J-school student.
Part of me wishes I would have applied to start grad school here in the fall so I could continue my work as a designer. I'm not sure I know how to live a life that isn't mainly focused on bettering myself through the education system.
What I do know, though, is that at this point in my life, I'm ready to live my life for me. I won't have school and its correlated requirements and commitments to bog me down. I'm excited to finally be fully self-sufficient and independent. Honestly, I can't wait to work 9-to-5 and bring home a steady paycheck. Then the rest of my time will be spent doing things that I
choose to do for me. I'll have full, subjective control of what I want to do with my life.
The only problem is I have absolutely no idea what I want at all, not to mention where I want to see myself in a few years. I've tossed around the idea of attending art school for graphic design. Heck, I've even thought about pursuing my recent interest in fine art photography, but earning a living doing that seems too unrealistic for me considering my lack of experience in the field.
The following are the lyrics to a song by Baz Luhrmann that I've always really liked. I think that they ring truer than ever now. They give me a lot of comfort when I'm feeling unsure about the future and what to do with my life. I hope whoever reads this appreciates it, too.
Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of '99—
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it
The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists
Whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience
I will dispense this advice now
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth, oh, nevermind
You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded
But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked
You are not as fat as you imagine
Don't worry about the future, or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum
The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind
The kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday
Do one thing every day that scares you
Sing
Don't be reckless with other people's hearts
Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours
Floss
Don't waste your time on jealousy
Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind
The race is long, and in the end, it's only with yourself
Remember compliments you receive
Forget the insults, if you succeed in doing this, tell me how
Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements
Stretch
Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life
Some of the most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives
Some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don't
Get plenty of calcium, be kind to your knees
You'll miss them when they're gone
Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't
Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't
Maybe you'll divorce at 40
Maybe you'll dance the "Funky Chicken" on your 75th wedding anniversary
Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much
Or berate yourself either
Your choices are half chance
So are everybody else's
Enjoy your body, use it every way you can
Don't be afraid of it or what other people think of it
It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own
Dance
Even if you have nowhere to do it but your own living room
Read the directions, even if you don't follow them
Do not read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly
Get to know your parents, you never know when they'll be gone for good
Be nice to your siblings, they're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future
Understand that friends come and go
But for a precious few, you should hold on
Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle
For as the older you get,
The more you need the people you knew when you were young
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard
Live in northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft
Travel
Accept certain inalienable truths
Prices will rise, politicians will philander, you, too, will get old
And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young
Prices were reasonable, politicians were noble
And children respected their elders
Respect your elders
Don't expect anyone else to support you
Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse
But you never know when either one might run out
Don't mess too much with your hair
Or by the time you're 40 it will look 85
Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it
Advice is a form of nostalgia —
Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts
And recycling it for more than it's worth
But trust me on the sunscreen