It’s that time of the year again. June gloom slowly creeps up, with the calendar bitching at you to get your life together while your hands desperately shove tequila shots down your throat in an attempt to shut your brain off and slow the clock down for just a few more hours.

Don’t worry. I feel you. When anyone utters the words “Week Nine” I look around for the nearest sledgehammer. And taking a GE Spring Quarter of my senior year turned into the worst mistake of my college career, as I unknowingly signed up for a twice-a-week freshman social hour, where the question Have you thought about what you’ll do after college? is about as threatening to them as How many different pairs of pants do you think Santa Claus has?

Not only is the end of the year a rough time for those of us who inexplicably don’t have a summer job after having applied for … no jobs, but it’s a heartbreaker for the spring fling-ers and the “This is definitely going to last the summer”-ers. Spring Quarter is like a magical, sexy, boiling stew of beer bongs and pantless fun, but like all other things, it must end. And when it does, it stings like a slapshot to the tender cheek of the unassuming frat pledge.

Damn does it hurt.

For those of you with that special someone … Nah, nevermind.

More appropriately, for those of you engaged in a non-specific sexual relationship that feels like a never-ending game of Twister — leaving you a little sore and a lot confused — well, my friends, you’re in for the clusterfuck of your life.

If you’re getting down with a graduating senior, get ready to have your shit rocked.

When you’re lying in bed Sunday morning with the words “So, once you graduate, what are we … ?” hovering above your lips, please, quickly think of an alternate ending, because that question is like Hiroshima to any fourth-year male with dreams of continued sexual prowess beyond college. They want to believe that nothing will change — that there’s no sudden need for commitment because of this “adult” status that they never actually signed up for.

Yes, it will always be panties-off party night in the bro mansion, tapping kegs and spitting game in the land of babes and excess. And in Seniorland, the no-strings-attached mentality is more amplified than ever.

And really, who can blame them? Last year, both my best friend and I received the “I’m a graduating senior” excuse, which at the time sounded about as reasonable as “I fell on her mouth.” But with the sage, newfound wisdom of my Spring Quarter senior standing, I can tell you that it’s an attitude I’ve begun to adopt myself.

This stage of life is like a two-and-a-half-month-long trade-off between a war cry and a cry of terror. At first, you arrive at the glowing steps of Spring Quarter, eyes narrowed in determination, scanning the horizon for fresh blood and sniffing the air for the scent of Prestige. The war cry is issued. Then Week Five comes around and you’re cradling your alcohol-destroyed body, sobbing over your planner and cursing yourself for the moment you decided to pencil in a countdown to graduation right next to that inspirational quote printed at the top corner of every page.

It’s a feeling I know all too well, and just the motivation I needed to say “Fuck it. YOLO.”

All in all, h-in’ up with someone on the precipice of the real world can be an awful lot of fun. They’re game for most anything … anywhere … and ready to share their wild absurdity (as well as their bed) with their fellow classmates. But it can also be a rough ride — yeah, in that way too — for the younger ones, not fully understanding the mentality of the person who’s currently in or around their mouth (or any orafice for that matter).

My word of advice: Share, but beware. As I was once told, we’re “not trying to hurt any feelings,” we’re just seniors. So YOLO, and check a few off the bucket list or help someone else get one in before their glory days are over.

Jana Barrett has spent the last four years getting hard and going hard. And that’s why we love her.

Views expressed on the Opinion page do not necessarily reflect those of the Daily Nexus. We welcome all submissions; please include name & major and keep columns under 550 words.