This weekend, graduating senior Kevin Tulles found himself in his apartment lounging with friends, pondering all the schoolwork he needed to do to prepare for the coming week.

“We should get drunk for the Pro Bowl,” proposed one of his friends. Kevin considered all of the work he had, giving slight thought to the notion that he could, however unfeasibly, wake up really early the next day, or somehow find a way to get it done before his classes.

“No, I’ve got a bunch of stuff to do,” he said, remembering the pump-up speech he’d given himself during his drive back to school. “This is the semester,” he had thought. A tour de force of motivation fueled by anxiety and sentimentality, Kevin had decided that his last semester at Syracuse University would be his best, academically. He would be a machine.

With the job hunt looming a few months away and a resumé full of puffery and nonsense, Kevin thought — nay, knew — that this would be the semester he buckled down, and he would make sure to take advantage of the precious little time he had left to fully prepare himself for the next step in life.

Unfortunately for Kevin, his rock-solid commitment to self-improvement was no match under the weight of his friend saying, “Dude, come on.”

“Alright, maybe,” Kevin responded. As soon as the words left his lips, Kevin knew his plans for academic progression would never be more than a pipe dream.

After all, this would be the last “Pro Bowl” he’d be able to watch with his whole gang together. And with the performance Julio Jones put in this season for his fantasy football team, it would be rude not to reward him by watching the game he worked so hard to get to.

Furthermore, reasoned Kevin, the one assignment that’s due the next day is only worth like, 5 percent of his total grade. So even if he threw it together last-minute tomorrow morning, he’d be able to lock in at least a 60 percent — which would only drop his final grade about 2 percent. And considering that this semester is the semester that he’d be getting 100 percent in his classes across the board, Kevin reasoned that one measly 98 percent wouldn’t be too severe a blemish on an otherwise exceptional academic performance.

Indeed, graduating seniors across campus are finding that any plans for improved academic performance are being crushed beneath friends scheming to get them to shirk on their responsibilities. Phrases like, “But this is the last time we’re going to be able to (activity),” “But next year we’re not going to be able to (activity)” and “Come on” have achieved shocking levels of success.

Subsequently, after being back at school for a mere two weeks, the collective ambition of the senior class has dwindled. More and more students realize the inherent contradiction in ending their collegiate experience on an academic high note, and are treating their senior year like a well-deserved victory lap that necessitates drinking on the usual Tuesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday — but also the occasional Monday or Sunday, and definitely also Wednesdays.

So, as students begin to concede they may not graduate with fancy things like jobs, a plan for their life or any hope of being successful, the knowledge that they put due diligence into drinking on nights that are not socially acceptable in any other context will have to suffice.

When asked if he regretted skirting his responsibilities in favor of booze and a worthless football game, Kevin responded, “Nah, let’s go to Chuck’s.”

Evan Hohenwarter is a senior advertising major who is almost as modest as he is handsome. His column appears weekly in Pulp. He can be reached at [email protected] or on Twitter at @evanhohmbre.

Published on February 1, 2016 at 10:22 pm