Ode to an Institution
Four years.
I spent four years of my life, more or less, on this campus. Four years of sitting through classes, skipping classes, playing pool, drinking in dorm rooms, drinking on the streets, admiring the female form and welcoming the return of warm weather.
This campus saw me lose my girlfriend of five and a half years. Three of those four years were spent with her. The fourth year saw me sleep around, slack off, get bad grades, not finish my thesis in time, and start smoking.
But the fourth year also saw me on the field of USF’s crushing defeat of then-#9 Louisville, a feat that was supposedly impossible. It saw me drunk before every home game, and heard of me drunk at a few away games. It saw me leave for the first-ever bowl game for USF, and it saw my return, with head hung low.
The fourth year saw me get closer to my true friends. The guys with whom I share so many stories, it’s damn near impossible to think of any truly good times I’ve had without them. While my four years is over, some of them are entering their fourth year. I’m sure I’ll be back on campus from time to time to hang out with them, and though it will be cool, in the back of my mind I know it won’t be the same.
My college days are over. I have to get up at seven every morning, put on a shirt with buttons and a collar, and do important things which affect peoples’ lives. I love my job, but no longer will I randomly start drinking on a Wednesday night, crash on my friend’s couch, and stumble to class in the morning. I have responsibilities; I have become an adult.
I’ve made the last copies I’ll ever have to make from the last book I’ll ever check out.
And I still have 45 cents on my copy card.
I spent four years of my life, more or less, on this campus. Four years of sitting through classes, skipping classes, playing pool, drinking in dorm rooms, drinking on the streets, admiring the female form and welcoming the return of warm weather.
This campus saw me lose my girlfriend of five and a half years. Three of those four years were spent with her. The fourth year saw me sleep around, slack off, get bad grades, not finish my thesis in time, and start smoking.
But the fourth year also saw me on the field of USF’s crushing defeat of then-#9 Louisville, a feat that was supposedly impossible. It saw me drunk before every home game, and heard of me drunk at a few away games. It saw me leave for the first-ever bowl game for USF, and it saw my return, with head hung low.
The fourth year saw me get closer to my true friends. The guys with whom I share so many stories, it’s damn near impossible to think of any truly good times I’ve had without them. While my four years is over, some of them are entering their fourth year. I’m sure I’ll be back on campus from time to time to hang out with them, and though it will be cool, in the back of my mind I know it won’t be the same.
My college days are over. I have to get up at seven every morning, put on a shirt with buttons and a collar, and do important things which affect peoples’ lives. I love my job, but no longer will I randomly start drinking on a Wednesday night, crash on my friend’s couch, and stumble to class in the morning. I have responsibilities; I have become an adult.
I’ve made the last copies I’ll ever have to make from the last book I’ll ever check out.
And I still have 45 cents on my copy card.
posted by Ian at 11:17 AM
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