Whoa, wait a minute. Is this really it? I never really thought this day would come. There’s so much I’ve missed, so much I haven’t done. It can’t be over, it just can’t. I refuse to believe it. Refuse. Period.

College isn’t over, not until all my credits clear and I get that diploma. I’ve got plenty of time. Heck, maybe they hold Golf I during the summer session. That’ll give me a third chance to actually pass that class — or not. I’ll do anything to stay.

Wait, I already registered for graduation. They didn’t take that seriously, did they? There’s got to be a way we can work this out. I’ll do anything. Who can I talk to? I’m sure I can get red-shirted or something. I can pull a Gerry McNamara and never seem to leave.

God, who am I kidding? This is all my fault. There really is no other explanation. This is what I get for only going to one Ithaca sports game in four years — besides Cortaca Jug, of course. I should’ve taken the opportunity to go to more games. Attendance was never my strong suit and now I’m paying for it. Who knows, if I had showed up to a couple more women’s basketball games, that could’ve been the difference between Empire 8 champs and NCAA champs.

This is bullcrap. What did I ever do to deserve this? You think you’re better than me, Ithaca College? You think you can jerk me around for four years, make me think I’m into something special and then just dump me like that? Well, you know what? Screw you Ithaca! I wasn’t going to say anything but, two years ago, I was going to transfer to Cortland. Oh yeah, their club soccer team was scouting me. I was about to go on the six-year program, win a couple trophies and forget all about being a Bomber. What the hell is a Bomber anyway? You know we’re at war, right? It’s insensitive.

Gosh, what am I going to do? I don’t have a job, my rent is up in August and I don’t even have an Ithaca jersey to back up the lies about my athletic career. Oh man, my life is over. What do I have to look forward to? I feel so alone. This is the worst moment of my life. At least it won’t be my fault if that stupid fish on top of Textor rolls into Cayuga Lake.

Actually, this isn’t bad at all. This is great. Oh yeah, I’m really starting to feel this entering-the-real-world thing. This can only lead to good things. Heck, I have a college education. I can do anything. And the last four years? Well, I probably still have my intramural kickball jersey. That’s good for something. Hopefully, all the lessons I’ve learned will lead to a successful career. Then, in 20 years, I can donate back to the institution that educated me.

Yeah, right. Konichiwa, suckers.