The way I’ve been feeling lately may be familiar to many CSU students. And those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about – just wait.
This being my last semester before I graduate, I’m going through somewhat of a 20-something crisis. I’ve started to feel like a heroin addict – forever chasing the euphoria of my first high.
But for me the high has nothing to do opiates or needles, it has to do with responsibility and maturity, or in laymen’s terms, the “Real World.”
And as I begin to mail out resumes in bulk, add up my student loans and “network” with prospective employers, all I can think about is how great I had it when I was 10. You see, this is the high that I’m chasing.
It was summertime: no school, no job, and no worries. I was wearing my favorite pair of shorts, my T&C Surf T-shirt and my faded St. Louis Cardinal hat; life was great. Our baseball team that summer was the best in the city, and my best friend Matt just moved to a house with a pool. The two girls who lived on both sides of my house would argue over who was going to marry me, but I didn’t care /_” girls were stupid. And best of all, when I would lie down in my bed at night, my mind would not race with stresses of the past, present and future.
But now I’m an adult who has experienced life. I’m a man, a man starting realize the 10-year-old me might have known more than I thought.
When thinking about several of my Real World friends recently – many of whom graduated from CSU /_” it was apparent that they were not all that happy about their post-collegiate life. Many are spending 50 to 70 hours a week in cubicles at “career” jobs that they sought in college. They have bought business suits, condos, Palm Pilots and big-screen TVs. They go to company cocktail parties with their girlfriends and play the market. They also work on Saturdays and don’t laugh enough.
I realize that when I graduate, I too will want to pursue a job enabling me to re-pay my debts and pay monthly bills. But I also wonder what it would be like if I didn’t.
Many Eastern philosophies believe that life is a cycle, and when a person has reached nirvana or enlightenment or whatever, they adopt the mentality of a child again.
I’m not saying I’ve come that far, just that 10-year-old Zeb is slowly becoming my mentor, and he laughs at a lot of the things I worry about.
Lately, sitting in class I’ve had the overwhelming urge to throw a spitwad at the student who is in a heated debate with the teacher about the underlying message in the reading material. I’ve wanted to drive my car through the pedestrian tunnel that runs under College Avenue. I’ve wanted to change my resume to read, “Honestly, I really don’t like to work at all, and definitely not before noon.” I’ve wanted to forget about finding a career in the over-anal and over-stressed journalism profession and become a professional batboy for the Colorado Rockies.
Sure, these thoughts are all immature, irresponsible and irrational, but that’s kind of the point.
Zeb’s column appears in the Collegian every Tuesday, but he’s thinking about taking some vacation time soon. Send comments via e-mail.