I tried to stay ahead of it as long as I could, but my future has finally caught up with me.

Over the course of the semester, I’ve started to resent a particular question.

“What are you gonna do when you graduate?”

I spend more time thinking about my future than anything else. Like, a lot. Seriously, it’s about 75 percent of the time I’m thinking about anything.

Plan A is for my rich uncle that I don’t know about yet to die, and I’m his favorite.

If that doesn’t work, Plan B is to get a real job and move out of the parents’ basement (even though my room is way cooler than any apartment is going to be).

Plan C is to repeat Plan A.

But as much time as I spend wondering what’s going to happen, I don’t know what I’m going to do when I graduate. I’m excited to see what happens, though.

All this time thinking about my future was time I didn’t think about everyone I’m going to miss. But now it’s time to do just that.

I’ll miss T.R. Hanrahan, who knows the best way to learn a lesson is through humiliation. And who also tormented me when I did nothing wrong. Thank you for being the angry bald man I needed. Please don’t wear that green sweater ever again.

I’ll miss Rick Rogers, who gave me my first newspaper job at the Neosho Daily News last summer and now works in Austin, Texas (and desperately needs an assistant).

I’ll miss Jordan Larimore and our Brett Favre debates (seriously, when’s that guy gonna stop?).

I’ll miss Willie Brown for obvious reasons.

I’ll miss Nathan Carter. No, I won’t.

I’ll miss Brennan Stebbins, my editor and spirit guide. Every Wednesday night we put together an issue of The Chart, and I don’t know anyone it would have been more fun to do that with.

I’ll definitely miss my room.

I’ll miss covering Faculty Senate (seriously) and the faculty’s never-ending war with the administration.

I’ll miss all the freakin’ nontrads here: Kenna, Woody, Logan, Niki, Erin and Nathan Mills. You guys are cool, even though nontrads aren’t supposed to be.

To my Chart buddies, I’ll miss being your big gay wizard. And I don’t know how many Wednesday nights will have to pass before I stop to think about each one of you.