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Every semester, I write the same post saying that I'm moving back to school, starting another semester.
Always talking about needing change, and always avoiding the one inevitable change: real life.
I'm only a junior now, but in a year I'll be staring down the barrel of a gun: my last semester of college. The last few credits before I walk down an aisle holding my diploma.

And I'll be the first to admit that I'm terrified of that.
Of five, ten, twenty years in the future.  Of what I'll do with my life when I don't have text books and professors and homework and exams to occupy it my thoughts and my worries.  
Terrified of whether I'll love, or even like my job - because I've had my share of awful employers (or at least, one awful employer that makes up for the good ones).  And definitely I'm aware that I'll be making next to nothing, because in all honesty what do print journalists make anyway?  But if I love it, that can make up for the cardboard box I'll be living in.  
Terrified of whether this single thing that I don't mind right now, might last long enough to start to bother me.  
Terrified of never making it out of this town.
Terrified of a million little things that 10 years from now I'll have forgotten.

But I think those fears have quieted over the past year.
I've found myself freelancing...and finding that I really to enjoy it.
I've started to look forward to the diploma, rather than shove it to the back of my mind where all the things I don't think about reside (okay, not completely, but it's a start).  

I think I'm ready for this - more ready than I can say I was a year ago...five, ten, twenty years ago (can a one-year-old be ready?).  
I'm ready for the post-college world, ready to tackle it and worry about some new things.