Last Tuesday, I woke up at 3 a.m. to type in my CRN numbers for my spring 2010 classes. It stalled for a few seconds, and I freaked out because I always pre-schedule my ideal schedule. Finally, it went through, and everything that I had selected was on the list. Done. Phew.

As I went to log out, I realized that I would never register for an undergraduate class at Georgia Southern ever again. While this is something that I knew going into registration, it didn’t hit me until I actually made it final. That’s the easiest thing about your last semester, you don’t have to figure out what classes you want to take, only those you have to take.

I’m applying for graduate school along with everything else going on right now, and it’s strange to think that next year at this time, I’ll probably be far away from GSU. It’s something that becomes engrained in you, an inevitability to be with your friends, the people that have become your family, while staying involved in the organizations that have defined your collegiate life. It’s all so very temporary.

In one of my classes the other day, my professor passed out examples of final projects from years past. One of the folders represented an organization I’ve been heavily involved with in college. However, none of the people listed in the book were recognizable to me, even though it was from 2006.

We don’t like to think about how replaceable we are, but it’s a fact of life. People come and go, in and out, and in a mere few years, we become a distant memory subjected to notebooks.

Last week, we named our new president, who I personally think was the best choice for the job. The legacy that Dr. Bruce Grube leaves behind will be incalculable to the future of our university. I guess with all of this impending “end-of-college” stuff, I’m wondering, what legacy am I going to leave behind? Will I have left the organizations I’ve participated in better than they were before I came? Because very soon, I’ll wake up at 3 a.m. to realize my life here is done.