Stolen appointment serves as unpleasant reminder

For college seniors, Advising Day at Gannon University is often bittersweet.

It’s the last chance, at least for us nerds, we have to schedule all those classes we’ve been eyeing for the past 3 1/2 years. It’s now or never.

I headed over to my appointment Tuesday fully expecting this bittersweet feeling. On one hand, I’m really going to miss Gannon when I leave. I want to make my final semester here count, and that goes for everything from The Knight to the classes I choose to take.

On the other hand, I’m ready to get the heck out of here and do something with my life. Never mind that I don’t know what that something’s going to be. I’m ready for a change.

But what I got as I trotted down the English hallway in the A.J. Palumbo Academic Center was, I would say, more bitter than sweet.

I arrived a cool five minutes early – just on time in my book – even though I was fully aware that my advising appointment has started at least five minutes late for the past three years. It doesn’t hurt to try, does it?

So I took a seat outside my adviser’s office and waited while he advised the helpless victim before me. Five, then ten minutes passed until he walked into the hall to tell me he wasn’t going to be able to talk to me during my scheduled time.

From the expression I caught on the student’s face as I walked past the office, it was evident that he needed the extra time.

But instead of scheduling a different time for me, my advising appointment occurred in the hallway, right in the middle of this freshman’s crisis.

I just told my adviser what classes I was planning to take, and he bid me a good day. I couldn’t help but feel a tad disappointed.

Advising Day is my only chance, besides this weekly column, to wallow in self pity about my future. Somehow the time set aside for deciding my plan for the next semester always turned into planning for the rest of my life. But this time, there were more important things to discuss. Just not with me.

However, as a senior, my personal crisis should not prevent the real, academic crisis of a freshman from the attention it deserves. My adviser was right to give me the boot.

I’m happy the freshman got the time he needed to figure out what he was supposed to do. And I’m happy to have an adviser who is willing to take the time to help out like that.

The situation just made me feel, for the first time, that I am really on my way out of this university.

For some reason, it didn’t quite hit me the other day when my mom randomly burst into tears about how quickly my undergraduate career had gone. But it hit me hard this time.

I don’t need any adviser now, except for myself.

All the help I need now comes from me. And that’s pretty sad, because I’m not quite sure what to do.

Maybe I can get some freshman to give me his advising appointment so I can figure it out.



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