Almost precisely 3 years ago, I put on an ill-fitting shawl and an odd-shaped hat on the way to receive a piece of paper that signified I was now legally required to start paying off the impressive student loan debt that attained the previous four years possible.
It was my college graduation, and it was the worst day of my entire life.
This isn’t me hiring the Internet hyperbole we’ve all come to know and begrudgingly accept over the past few years — if I was asked to pinpoint the most insufferable 24 hours of my entire existence on this planet , nothing would come close to trumping May 20, 2013.
Do I have any good memories associated with that day? Sure, but they’re all dwarfed by the numerous miserable moments I experienced throughout the day that stimulated me question how poorly I even wanted my degree.
I can thankfully look back some years later and laugh at my many adversities, but I can’t simply sit by in silence knowing the fate that awaits millions of students this graduation season.
Here are my four tips-off for surviving graduation without wanting to kill everyone.
Never. Stop. Drinking.
In a perfect world, you wouldn’t drink the night before graduation, but I’m not going to waste my hour writing a listing filled with unrealistic expectations virtually nobody outside the country of Utah is going to take to heart.
It’s expected you’re going to spend that last night in college doing the same thing you’ve done for most of the ones that preceded it: Drinktoo much and regret your decisions in the morning.
Unfortunately, the morning is only the beginning of your adventure, which means you have a couple of options.
The first is to employ one of the many ineffective hangover recovery strategies you tested out over the course of your time at school.
The second is to employ the only strategy that actually works: Stay buzzed enough to keep the hangover at bay until after the day’s events are done — I recommend buying a few nips of any alcohol that won’t induce you vomit when it’s warm.
You’ll definitely hate yourself for it afterwards, but it’s easier to deal with ahangover when you don’t have to worry about vomiting on the shoes of the president of your university in front of thousands of people.
Bring sunglasses( not for the reason you’d think ).
If you devote a mouse a cookie, it’s going to ask for a glass of milk and if you dedicate college students a bunch of alcohol on the last night of college, they’re going to stay up route too late trying to drink all of it.
My college actually promoted people to stay up and watch the sunup from the top of a parking garage, which seemed like a great notion until we realized we had two hours until we had to be garmented and “re ready for” the ceremony.
Most of my friends objective up passing out in their seats during the commencement speech, and I still regret forcing myself to stay awake as I listened to a bunch of generic inspirational rambles I could have watched on YouTube a few days later.
That’s why I recommend bringing a pair of sunglasses. I don’t care if it’s raining or if your graduation is inside — at some point, you’re going to want to fall asleep, and while keen commentators will be able to tell you’re napping, at the least it’ll be less obvious.
I don’t know if it’s possible to develop yourself to sleepwalk, but that’s also something you might want to look into. If I could have squeezed in a 15 -minute power nap during my procession, there’s no telling how differently things could have turned out.
Bring sunscreen( precisely for the reason you think ).
You might not think it’s hot enough to get a sunburn, and the universe will spite you for your hubris.
If your graduation is outside, take the time to protect yourself. The day is already filled with enough physical and psychological trauma — there’s no need to attain the pain last any longer than needed.
Graduation garments also lead to some really weird tan lines.
Have your room packed and cleaned before the ceremony.
When you receive your degree, you instantaneously become a liability to your college, and most schools necessitate students to leave the campus as quickly as possible.
My roommates and I thought we had done an adequate chore get our dormitory to a point that would only require a final few minutes of organizing before hauling everything downstairs and running our separate ways.
We were wrong. We were so, so wrong.
The last thing anyone wants to do after building it through the ceremony is literally anything , but we were faced with a room filled with heaps of assorted items that never seemed to get any smaller and a contracted security firm that was tasked with rushing us out of our dorm as possible.
After reaching a point where I told a Rent–ACop to “go f* ck himself” for reasons I don’t entirely recollect, I realise I was A) an “adult” and B) so, so over graduation.