This is my fourth try at a column about being a senior. Normally, I prefer not to write in this first-person, blog-esque way, but after three dead ends, stream of consciousness is all I have left.I can't say for sure why I'm having so much difficulty with this. Maybe after three years of writing columns, the well has finally run dry. It could be that because we have not been through even one full week of school, there's just nothing to write about. Perhaps it's this new outlook on life I'm trying out (more on that later). Or I could just be really out of practice. I suppose in the scheme of things, it doesn't really matter. What matters, long-term, is that this is not going to be a clinical critique of anything important; it's just my musings.

This year is figuratively going to kick my butt: Between classes and an honors thesis, two jobs, various club involvements and transit times, it isn't looking like I'm going to have a whole lot of "me" time. Not to mention the eventual and inevitable time to decide what-I'm-doing-for-the-rest-of-my-life-or-at-least-the-next-year-or-two.

But here's what's weird: I don't care. In fact, I'm really excited for the next nine months.

Maybe my defenses are low from feeling old-and I'm not 21 yet, so it really is feeling-but the overly sentimental half of my mind has been slowly but steadily taking over. Little things that mildly irritated me two years ago-like Brandeis' peculiar euphemisms-now amuse me.

In regard to my feelings about Brandeis, I think I've gone through the five stages of grief.

Denial: "There's no way people here are that weird."

Anger: "Ugh, stupid weird people!"

Bargaining: "Just let in fewer Jews." (Yes, I've started joking about it.)

Depression: "Oh man, there's just so much weird stuff about this place, there's no point."

Acceptance: " I don't want to graduate.

I'm not sure whether this says more about me in high school or me now, but Brandeis, as I've recently realized, is the first place where I've been consistently happy. Even when I've been sad, it's been in that more passive sense.

There's just so much about this place and what it's done for me that I can't explain. During Orientation Leader training I choked up a couple of times thinking about it. I talked myself hoarse telling my AIDE group about various departments, policies and clubs.

I suppose this type of column is more suited for the end of the year, but I've come full circle already; I don't really see much more personal growth in my immediate future. The next nine months are just going to be a series of weeks, days, hours, minutes and seconds in which I get to live in one of the most unique communities in the country.

And even though part of me is a little nervous about the inevitable end, I'm excited about the nervousness, too. It means I really do care about this place and what it offers.

Not too shabby.