Walking home from class today, I found myself in awe of the beauty of an Indiana sunset—one of those sunsets that finally appears on the first warm day of spring, bringing with it the birds and the flowers and the overzealous college students itching to dust off their hammocks on the nearest tree limb. Walking through the crowd of students soaking in some much needed vitamin D, the irony was not lost on me that this sunset was a fairly on-the-nose metaphor for my quickly dwindling days as an undergraduate student. In one month (or, to be more precise: one month, 2 days, 11 hours and 56), I will be walking across a stage in front of my friends and family wearing a funny looking hat to receive a piece of paper that will represent the culmination of my last four years as a student, supposedly. Watching the sun set on what has been an important chapter of my life, I find myself to be in a very reflective state of mind, wondering what I would go back and tell my freshman self if I could. Of all of the ideas bouncing around in my head, one stands out more than any other: do not be afraid to ask for help.
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