It’s graduation day. You’re about to start a new adventure called “life.”

Oh, never mind. You’re asleep at your place. Maybe you’ll get up to let the cat out or wash off the odors of the Loft. But you’re not graduating today.

You’re about to become what the University System of Georgia refers to as a “super senior” — a student unrestricted by the concept of time itself. Maybe you forgot to fulfill that Area K multicultural PE requirement.

Perhaps at the last minute you realized the newspaper industry was dying. A career as a tree harvester would be more viable. Our lieutenant governor is proud of you. Graduating is for suckers.

But now you’ll need some help. Sure, you’ll be the envy of your graduating friends leaving Athens for careers in business. It means you can lord your extra year or two of life experience over your younger friends, just as Alton Brown lords his knowledge of cupcake history over a sweaty and enraptured audience of cupcake enthusiasts.

But there are drawbacks. First — deal with questions from friends. “Why are you still in town, again?” Friends and acquaintances will ask you a variant of this question approximately six times a day until you move your La-Z-Boy and bookcase back into Mom’s basement. If you’re like me, eventually you’ll come up with a canned answer.

This will quickly get boring. Make up different answers to fit the occasion. “I’m finally doing what I love.” “I recently got off parole.” “I’m trying to become a more well-rounded person.”

Lies like these will make the questions seem more like word puzzles, and peer interactions more like daily brain teasers. But you don’t need to be a Food Network host to know that eventually all lies have to be covered with more lies.

Luckily for you, that never stopped any super senior from having fun. When your friends get sick of your act, just make new friends.

Start an Animal Collective cover band. Loiter downtown. Learn how to roll a cigarette and ride a one-speed bicycle at the same time.

These activities will give you something to talk about when Mom calls to ask why you’re still in Athens if you don’t have a day job.

That’s the next step -— progress reports to parents. Unless they follow you on Twitter, it’s likely Mom and Dad have no idea what you’re doing with your life now. But they will ask questions.

“When are you graduating?” Take your graduation date and subtract a semester.

“Are you coming home anytime soon?” The answer should always be “no.” You’ll minimize the crippling depression your parents feel every time their friends ask about your hypothetical postgraduate career. At least your rare appearances back home will be greeted with more fanfare than an Of Montreal concert.

As Biggie said, follow these rules and you’ll have mad bread to break up. See you on Washington Street.

— Bill Richards is a cartoonist for The Red & Black