My Late Night Text to the University of Western Ontario
And other thoughts about graduating
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*It’s midnight, a phone screen flickers with a message notification from “Warren”. The University of Western Ontario is about to go to sleep, dressed in purple pajamas, like the colour of the room’s wallpaper. Underneath the bed is a cardboard box filled with a menagerie of alcohol bottles, cause you know, Western*
Warren: U up?
*No response for 13 minutes*
Warren: Adult life’s not the same without you and I want you back. Come thru 1 time b
Western: *Sends stop sign emoji, turn off phone*
Lately, the University of Western Ontario (not Western University #notmyrebrand) is something I’ve been thinking about. There’s a lot of things I like about post-grad life, but part of my mind has been in London, and it made me realize something: Life after graduation is like a scarier version of puberty, except instead of being stricken with raging hormones, you’re stricken with raging responsibility for your entire life. Maybe torrential student debt as well.
In both phases, there are rapid changes that bring certain questions you probably don’t know the answer to. You may be looking for guidance on any number of things. And like puberty, or really any phase of life, there’s a need to belong. To succeed and achieve and find your niche. Find somebody to be with, or avoid that completely and find something within yourself.
Tinder is an option too.
Also like puberty, my voice still cracks occasionally. Why is that? Seriously? They didn’t teach me that in sex ed. Come on high school curriculum, I’m supposed to have a voice as deep as Darth Vader right now.
I have to admit that I did not think much about my time at Western until my graduation. Life got busy, and I didn’t find myself ever reflecting on my 4 years in the grand scheme of things. I missed a friend here and there, I reminisced about certain experiences, but I still didn’t feel that I was done school, and really understood what all of that meant.
I thought Homecoming would get me reflective, but as wonderful as all the purple and the alcohol and seeing everyone was, it didn’t really feel me going to Western. It felt like me enjoying a big event, a spectacle, rather than me remembering my day to day life in London. An event I really enjoyed that day, but not me reliving something that was routine, something comfortable. There was novelty and excitement, but not a great theme of familiarity.
I lied a little bit in that last part. There was one time I did think about Western the past few months asides from graduation. I was in a Second Cup Coffee shop writing something, when I decided to procrastinate and check my Snapchat story. There was one snap that stood out in particular. A good friend of mind was at my favourite bar in London, McCabe’s, and she did a pan shot of everyone at the table. Every single person at that table was somebody I had multiple fond memories with.
This was a day in September, and I paused. If I was still in school, I probably would have been with them. We would have caught up about the summer, enjoyed the patio weather, talk about the upcoming year and other typical things every university student does in the same situation.
This very everyday, run-of-the-mill gathering of friends was what really made me realize, I’m done undergrad. So, I calmly, peacefully, and with the serene focus of a monk from Tibet, thought to myself:
“OH SHIT, I’M NOT IN SCHOOL ANYMORE.”
I whipped my coffee cup in the air, it’s liquid pouring down and singeing my face. I then screamed to the heavens:
“WHAT THE HECK ARE TAXES? WHAT DOES IT EVEN MEAN WHEN SOMETHING’S DEDUCTIBLE? HEALTH PLAN, HEALTH PLAN?!!!! HELP ME TRUDEAU!!!!”
I then ran over the the wisest and oldest looking person I could see in the café:
“WHEN AM I GOING TO BE RICH? CAN ANYONE TELL ME EXACTLY HOW TO GET A MORTGAGE? WHAT THE HECK IS A PRIME RATE ? I WORK AT A BANK AND I DON’T KNOW THAT SHIT. ARE AN RESP AND RRSP THE SAME THING?”
A cute little kid came up to me, proudly wearing a Perry the Platypus t-shirt and tugged at the bottom of my sweater.
“Mister, is everything okay?”
“YOU’LL NEVER KNOW MY PAIN! ADULTHOOD IS A TORRENT OF DANGER AND SOUL DESTRUCTION.”
As an ambulance came to take me off to the insane asylum, I thought more about why I missed Western. More about why that single story in particular stuck out. Why did something so normal carve a little spot in my brain and injected a dosage of nostalgia? Because it was routine.
At the end of the day, holidays, birthdays and homecomings create memories to remember. But those are one day a year. The majority of our time is spent in our daily and weekly routines. It may be easy to say that you do X with person A all the time so it’s not that special, but in terms of the hours you spend each Friday getting a beer with a friend or calling your mom everyday, it adds up to a lot more time per year than a family dinner on Thanksgiving. The special, once in a time thing? That’s great, I love those moments. But, it’s the thing you do on the regular up to those points that keep the ride interesting.
Even though Grad was one of those once-in-a-lifetime moments, the ceremony, as may of you probably heard before or experienced, was pretty okay. The part that stuck with me the most was seeing my old friends.
The friends that were in my year, some whom graduated with me, some who were still at Western.
The people I spent exam season caffeine drunk with.
The familiar faces I saw around campus.
Sleeping on the couch of a great friend, when I used to sleep on her couch so much it became my conjoined twin.
New experiences are great; they add a sense of change and wonder to your regular schedule. But, when ordinary experiences are something you enjoy, it gives you a sense of everyday joy and gratitude that’s hard to replace.
They say university is the best years of your life; I think that’s bullshit. We live a lifespan of 80 something years, and I always thought that saying the ages of 18–22 are the best years of your life is shortsighted. I joke about adult life sucking, but it’s really just a different type of life than the university experience. Somethings are good, somethings are bad, and it’s up to you to make the best of it.
Living in the same neighborhood as all your friends, and having the ability to see them any hour of the day? Point, University.
Taking mandatory courses for your major and midterms? Point, adulthood.
Getting to chart your own life after 18+ years of structure? Scary as hell, but point, adulthood.
Having to go to bed early for a 9–5 job so you’re not a zombie? Point, university.
What I will say, is that University was the best years of my life up to this point. And if I remember lessons I learned like:
1. Time management is important
2. Your personal realationships are important
3. Ambition is important
4. Alcohol is great and horrible
And most of all:
The ordinary can be pretty extraordinary
With those lessons, I think what I learned at Western can make the years ahead of me even better. Different, with pros and cons and great things and horrible things, A.K.A. Life, but better.
That, or maybe I’m just a victim trying to justify the trauma of looking at my student loan all over again.
