Ah, the dawn of a spring semester at Syracuse University – a time when spring itself is nothing but a thought over yonder, behind the mile-high snow banks and record-breaking wind chills. A time when students return to campus and thus, rejoice in their awaiting academia, frolicking to the thought of cold nights spent curled in the laps of uncomfortable library chairs listening to the snowfall reach 100-straight-hours-of-precipitation proportions.

And lastly, a time for some students to invariably soil themselves as they hit the panic button awaiting graduation.

To the graduating seniors, class of 2012, I salute you. (I salute you as a peer, as I too am in this panic-stricken assortment of students.) We are now thrust into a campus that expects us to be so much – studious and academically-driven; recklessly partying and binge-drinking; insatiable in promiscuity; and still looking for a job come May. It's a tough balance and so with that, I offer the following advice and to-dos in our remaining semester here.

1. Remember you are only young now and will never get to use that as an excuse again

On the eve of my 20^th birthday, my friends informed me that I needed to do something reckless as I could no longer do so again and nonchalantly disregard it as an action of a disgruntled teenager. Similarly, do something reckless for you shall never have this chance to use the college student label as an excuse. Rave. Live. Snort cow brains. Hell, be creative like only college students can be and when the lovely medical crews at Crouse are pumping your stomach, take solace in their passive aggressive comments on how you are just a college student and know none the better.

2. Genuinely stop sleeping

This is the only way you will have time to fit in the 4085203840382 drinks you need to consume at Chucks and Faegans, the additional 20 people with whom you need to hook up, the shit you need to study, the friends you need to see before they too set sail, and the jobs you need to attempt to find. I don't mean, pansy out and actually get four hours of sleep a night – malarkey I say! Poppycock planning indeed! – throw sleeping out the window and leave it for thy younger class man and class woman. Seniors don't give a shit about sleep.