Today I turned in my senior essay which, for the sake of argument, should mean I could stop going to classes and still feel like I'd finished college more or less. So, with my newfound faux-freedom, I ate some very cheese-heavy nachos, ran an errand for my boss, ran into my TA twice in the span of an hour, and the second time awkwardly avoided having to make small talk by walking in an erratic manner down Edgewood ("it's harder to hit a moving target). And soon I think I'm going to nap.

Conclusion: Being done with my senior essay is 50% the fantasy of an 8 year old, and 50% what I dread about my future.