As Cervantes once said, “There are only two families in the world … the Haves and the Have-nots.”

Proof of the above quote: Yale’s own graduating class. We attempt to unify at senior events by drunkenly romanticizing the “great” times we’ve had, laughing at those fond memories from bygone Games … when we were clearly too drunk to remember. Yet there is no mistaking the “Haves” clan from the “Have-nots.”

Those who “Have” gotten their acceptance from Harvard Law, and those who “Have-not” yet taken their LSAT. Those who “Have” accepted an offer from UBS, and those who “Have-not” yet set foot inside UCS. Those who “Have” a plan after graduation, and those who “Have-not” yet planned after Myrtle.

Guess which family I’m a part of?

Instead of tweaking my resume, filling out job applications or pretending to look at my LSAT books, I am sitting comfortably on my roommate’s couch watching E! True Hollywood Story (who knew Denise and Charlie’s marriage was so scandalous?) and scoffing at those well-prepared souls who have road maps for life. Who needs directions? It is much more thrilling to trust your instincts and go wherever life may lead you!

Who am I kidding?

Trusting my instincts gets me all the way to eBay, where I buy useless items under false pretenses. I fool myself into thinking that I will use these purchases in the future — say, in case of a nuclear holocaust or a Xanax overdose. Here are some of my recent purchases: an autographed photo of Pat and Vanna from “Wheel of Fortune”; a cat sweater with matching leash; and a camping lantern that doubles as a flashlight. This is all despite the fact that 1) I’m not a fan of “Wheel of Fortune; 2) I’m allergic to cats; and 3) I hate camping. Right now, the only place life will lead me is into credit card debt.

Compulsive internet shopping only serves to divert my attention for part of the time. Then comes the inevitable confrontation: my fear of the unknown has been waiting in the background for the most inopportune time to make an appearance. Like that drunken mistake you inevitably run into while looking like armpit, my fear and I exchange the awkward “hello.” Fear catches me at the worst times: crossing streets, taking a midterm, swallowing soda. It’s not pretty. In fact, it usually involves a pretty violent physical reaction. I’ll be thinking about whether or not to stop and get a Diet Coke at Durfee’s — WHAT WILL BECOME OF MY LIFE?!!?

You know that saying, “the bigger they are, the harder they fall?” I’m 5’9.” You haven’t seen a crowd scatter until you’ve seen me hit the deck in front of the post office. Disgruntled postal workers have nothing on me. Fear: 10, Me: 0.

Having no plan seems so brave, or so we “Have-nots” tell ourselves. At the mercy of the world, we convince ourselves that our own spontaneity, creativity and boldness make us worthwhile. Listening to people with futures that fit into neat little boxes, I sometimes long for the perfectly gift-wrapped plan — one that will please my parents, my professors and my prospective employers. And then I wonder: am I courageous because I’m determined to make my own way, or cowardly because I’m unable to choose a path?

Maybe the only thing that keeps all hell from breaking loose between the “Haves” and the “Have-nots” is the realization that, regardless of plans or lack thereof, all of us will soon be gone from this place. Time ensures equality. All of us are counting down the days we have left, yet we have not had enough time.

Susan Posluszny urges Yale seniors of the world to unite, turning themselves into “haves.”