tell 'em thompson Insights on the fabulous life of Thompson Davis and the waning days of one senior's year

Author: Thompson Davis

As I thrashed around with the class of 2008 at the 100 days party, I was overwhelmed by feelings of camaraderie, community, and happiness. And then I had a panic attack. I realized, on that dance floor, that I was going to be gone. Soon. And I was scared.

Presented below are the four things I fear most about the real world. From observing adults, I've come to understand that the healthy functional ones do this stuff at least some of the time.

Commitment - "I'm a stallion, baby. I was born to run."

I have trouble picking sandwiches at Subway. I go in thinking I know what I want but as soon as I see the menu I freak out. If one takes into account all the different toppings and breads there are several thousand sandwich-combinations. I'm not picky either. I get anxious-in life and at Subway-because once a choice is made, there's no going back. You have to buy that sandwich. In stark contrast, I've spent four years learning new things, exploring options, and actively avoiding responsibility. I'm at a liberal arts college, for Pete's sake! Committing to a job, or a person (yikes), although inevitable, will be a big step for me.

Dating - "I think I really like you."

Real dating. At first glance it may seem like a series of unnecessary challenges and obstacles, but it must have some very real advantages. On T.V. and in the movies, people date each other willingly. While I assume that dating is more intimate and fulfilling than "random play," I will definitely miss some parts of college hook-up culture. For instance, where else would it be even remotely acceptable to invite someone over to watch Old School on a laptop, and call it a date? Where else is it ok to go to parties and publicly make out with sloppy strangers? Hallelujah for college.

Buying my own food - "Groceries?"

First you make a list, then your wife bitches at you because the fair trade coffee is too expensive, then you look for your keys, then you can't find your stupid keys, then your wife laughs and says, "Funny, I had them in my purse the whole time," as you say "Thanks Martha" and daydream about being married to someone else, then you get into your car and head for the supermarket but on the way your yappy kid calls you and says that he has to go home because he has lice, and now you can't even go to the supermarket because you have to pick up your stupid kid, and then an elk walks right in front of your car but you don't notice because you're on the phone, and then you crash into it, and as your entire life flashes before your eyes and the darkness swallows you like a whale, you have one final thought...

Closure - "100 days to grow up."

I'm having a blast being immature and spoiled but I know my life's going to change. And if I don't start getting ready now, I'm going to be a sad, reminiscent jerk. So I've decided: one by one I'm going to phase in the things that frighten me and grow up. In 100 days I will have a job, a legitimate partner, and I will cook for myself at least once.