Unless you become a teacher, your final final exam will be the last time you ever see a Blue Book. It's not just that you will never again be asked to sit and prove your knowledge on a specific subject matter by scrawling bullsh*t your professor doesn't actually want to read, but you cannot even find these blue books outside of school without ordering them from the manufacturer. So, if these books were going to be part of your hipster plan for post-grad-contemplative-note-taking-in-Starbucks, just stick with Moleskins. If you're a normal person, rejoice! Your fate will no longer be tied to those haphazardly stapled pages of doom. It will be tied to important stuff, like how much your boss likes you.
Any desk job you get will provide you with a human sized desk, not the little elbow perches you've been dealing with for the past four years. And, if you don't get a desk job, you won't have to deal with any kind of desk. You don't need a hard surface to write anything by hand ever again, so you can just go back to spooning your laptop in bed like you were going to anyway.
That mad dash to get into the classes you want during the registration window? You don't need to do that anymore. That madder dash to drop the classes you're going to fail during the add/drop window? Never again. The word "registrar"? Never, ever again. Once you leave college and the semester schedule, any form of registration you'll need won't need to be completed in a three-hour window at the same time as everyone else you know. You'll probably be able to do it at the DMV, surrounded by strangers, eight months after you said you were going to go. Like a grownup.
Unless you choose a career that involves math, the only math you'll ever encounter is when you're splitting a restaurant bill between too many people and someone doesn't want to split it evenly. Stop hanging out with that cheap jerk and you will have absolutely no math to do. Which is good because you'll forget all the math you ever knew within the first six hours after graduation.
That Psych textbook that cost you $125? You skimmed it at best and you only got $30 when you sold it back to the bookstore. If you didn't sell it back, great. Now you'll have a giant psychology textbook lying horizontally on your bookshelf until you eventually throw it out because your Ikea bookshelf isn't designed to hold a book that size. Because you're not supposed to buy books that size. Just buy the A Song of Ice and Fire boxset and then don't buy another book till a comedian you like writes a memoir. You won't actually read anything else after college.