The life expectancy of an American these days is somewhere around 78 years. By contrast, a donkey can expect about 18 to 20 years of sun and fun before the grim reaper comes to claim its worn, weathered soul. That doesn’t really seem fair, but considering we got the long side of the stick, I guess I shouldn’t complain. While we humans may not be struggling with the same death anxiety issues as our furry friends around this time, our lives are far from perfect. It seems to me that staying inspired is the key to making it through in one piece. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the sophomore slump.
Have you ever been told these college days are the best times of your life and that above all you should enjoy them? This is a favorite line among the old and senile – probably because it doesn’t involve remembering your name. Still, I can’t help but feel sad when I hear it. Of course we should enjoy ourselves while we’re here – that goes without saying. But if these are the best days of my life, then the future seems doomed.
Sorry, am I being too bleak? Vaguely apocalyptic rantings don’t go so well with breakfast. But still, does anyone feel comfortable with the notion that it’s all downhill from here? I guess that’s why we’ve come here and forced ourselves into close quarters with far too many people just like us. Halfway between high school and the real world (or your parents’ basement, depending on your level of motivation), college sometimes feels less like an institution of higher learning and more like a sick social experiment.
So why do I feel surrounded by apathy? Is it avoidable? Or is it simply a quarter-life crisis of sorts, a rite of passage on the journey from adolescence to adulthood? I don’t really care; I just want out. I’ve been here almost two years now, and the luster is gone. It’s a sobering realization – one that leaves me with several options:
1) I could drop out. Ah, the workforce, everyone’s favorite fallback. It’s where we’re all headed anyway, so why bother with these pointless academics? I could trade in the stress of college life for the monotony of unskilled labor. From the familiar confines of my Ashland roots, I’ll spend the days trying to re-woo my high school sweetheart and my nights developing crippling alcoholism before eventually fading into obscurity.
The free time sounds good. So does the low-stress lifestyle. Blowing my weekly wage barhopping for the next 10 to 20 years and dying alone and forgotten? Not so much. A college degree does have its benefits. But maybe I don’t have to work so hard. That leads me to my second option:
2) I could coast. In other words, I could stop trying so hard. We pay for our education; we have the right to take as much or as little from it as we want. Nothing takes the edge off like not applying yourself. Coasting would allow me to enjoy many of the benefits of dropping out, plus I’d still get to use the Student Recreation Center. That’s called a win-win situation. I hope you’re writing this down.
Coasting isn’t all good times, however. In fact, it’s a risky proposition. The slope between not caring about school and dropping out completely is slippery; many a brave, ambitionless soul have fallen victim to its pitfalls: Failing grades, academic probation and the aforementioned alcoholism. The third and final option is the toughest, and it offers the least short-term gratification:
3) I could maintain. Sure, college is tough, but no one said it would be easy. The only way to get anything out of this place is to put your best effort into it. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Work hard today and reap the benefits tomorrow.
So when we examine our options, it becomes painfully clear that the road to success is no walk in the park. Chances are, we won’t even know for sure if it was worth it until after we’re done. But who wants to take that chance? I’m choosing to maintain, and I think all of you reading this should too. What’s the worst that could happen?
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