Terminal Madness

I call it the Terminal Madness. It happens and it kills me everytime. It is some sort of behavior I don’t quite agree as a symptom of ageing as my roommate said. I think it transcends beyond the growing of age. I think it is a coming of age.

When this semester started, I made an agreement with myself: I will enjoy the few months left in college no matter what costs this may involve. I even said to myself that it won’t matter anymore if I don’t get high grades and graduate with honors. As long as I can say to myself at the end of all of this that “Whoa! I had a blast!” is sure enough.

And sure enough, to date, this is the BEST SEM ever! And I am sad that it will bring to closure in a few days.

Which brings me cold wafts of apprehension, excitement and sadness: the first semester has ended rather quickly and one more quick semester like this and I am done with school forever, unless I go to graduate studies, which I am now considering as my bigger option than finding a job after graduation.

The other day, my classmates had some daydreaming. What if we all go out of the country after graduation and study abroad for our PhDs? That would be fun! It is nice to know that most of us would like to study more, perhaps realizing that today’s competition is one that puts more regard to academic achievement.

If you would ask me, I still have no definite plan after graduation. One of my professors has already offered me a scholarship for Tokyo but I guess it would still be very early to tell if I am really ready to go out of the country right after graduation. I don’t know about you but I feel that I am still not that old for such thing. For instance, when I told my mom I want to go out of the dormitory, find my own place and try to be more financially-independent next semester, she freaked out. Maybe she also thinks I am not that old yet. Even my friends find that really bizarre. To make them understand, I tell them that it is part of the rehearsal for my boring, forlorn life after college. It is part of the whole Terminal Madness. Whether I like it or not, I have to leave the comforts of dorm life sometime anyway. Besides, I will be doing someone a big favor if I leave so. But enough about that.

Going back, the fact that I don’t have plans after graduation is making me queasier. But I guess that is just simply how I go with life— giving more space for more varied combination of possibilities, and picking which one I like after sometime. Besides, the miracles of something good always happen on the last nick of my no-decision-to-decided phase. Who knows, I might end-up working in a call-center, swallow my pride after eating the hate-words I hurled against call-canter agents, and pound my bedroom wall every night for being such a cynical mediocre. But don’t get me wrong , I have nothing against the call centers. They make yuppies rich, but the downside is that they also make them stupid.