I wish I could write a piece about how we should all remember to, even though we’re drowning in piles of paper, enjoy the little moments that make the year’s conclusion bittersweet.

But, sorry, that’s not going to happen. Because we all know that May is the absolute worst. This month is undeniably more terrible than the weeks leading up to the end of first semester. At least in December, the twinkling lights of Christmas beckon to us from the end of the long, dark tunnel that is finals week.

Now, all we have to look forward to is minimum-wage jobs and mosquito bites.

Go ahead and try to enjoy those little moments that comprise your spring semester. Snap selfies with your stacks of research sources in the library. Bring flashcards along when you’re getting your weekly dose of fresh air on your walk around the block. Splurge on brand-name coffee that you can make at 3 a.m.

The point is, nothing is going to be fun in May. And as long as we just buckle down and accept this sad, sad reality, we’ll probably make it to the end with minimal personal damage.

Accept that it’s okay to call your significant other while hyperventilating, gnawing on a chocolate bunny and chugging a diet soda (definitely not speaking from personal experience here). Look at the positives of this situation: if he or she doesn’t break up with you this month, your relationship is probably pretty solid.

Going back to more important things (the negatives) though, the constant reminder that seniors are leaving is the icing atop the overbaked, underfrosted cake of May.

We should be soaking up their presence and gleaning bits of knowledge before they depart for the real world, but whoops, we don’t have time for such frivolous things as coffee dates. Homework is all that matters.

Bye, seniors; have fun with your adult lives of luxury. When you’re longing for your college days at the end of next year, don’t. Simply glance through your planner from your last collegiate May and weep tears of happiness at being finished. (Don’t do this if you’ll be in grad school, though. You’ll probably already be weeping.)

So, I’m sorry that I can’t offer words of reassurance for these trying times. Let’s all just try to survive this together so that we can move forward into happier times. Like next Christmas.


September Symens is a junior English and journalism major from Omaha, Neb.