And the panic attacks ensue. I had one a couple weeks ago at midnight. The thought process went something like this:
I’m a senior. Whoa.
I’m graduating in May.
Wait, how many months is that? (counts on fingers)
And my lease is up at the end of May.
And I probably won’t have a job. Or any prospects.
Oh. My. God. What am I doing with my life?
Oh. My. F—ing. God. What if I have to move back to Las Vegas? With my parents?