Being 21 Is Not All Fun And Games (But Maybe A Little)
26 September 2014
This post, which I started sometime ridiculous like four days ago, was meant to be about how I'm 100% convinced that I'm not actually 21 years old. I had it all planned out in my mind. How, I actually have the soul of a 70 year old. All I want to do is hit up buffets, go on a cruise, and camp out in front of The Ellen Show, Snuggie on, red wine in day-drinking hand. The last thing I was visibly emotional about, in fact, was when our resident computer consultant managed to get our Apple TV working so that my roommate and I could watch the Beyonce documentary. Actually, I guess that's more of an anyage kind of activity, amirite?
I was going to tell you about how I feel like I'm eight years old. The highlight of my week? The no-alcohol-permitted carnival event that was put on for the freshmen (and which not a single freshman attended). Cotton candy, kettle corn, A HOT AIR BALLOON YES AN ACTUAL HOT AIR BALLOON, a fun slide... I felt like an overeager chaperone at Project Graduation. This was on top of my decision to start following Barbie on Instagram and getting pissed that a plastic doll has a better wardrobe and travel itinerary than I do.
But tonight... Tonight I actually do feel like a 21 year old at the crossroads of Holy SH%* WHAT I AM I DOING and I Guess This Really Is My Time Isn't It. I clicked 'Accept' on my first recruiting event, went about doing my thang for three minutes, and then...
Full on freak out moment.
I'm talking, partial anxiety attack. I called my best friend from home, possibly the only person who can be the voice of reason in my moments of irrational crazy - somehow, she can be of simultaneous blind encouragement and blunt truth. I put my computer aside and reached for my hair straightener, needing to do something repetitive and methodical to calm myself down.
I don't know. I think it finally finally finally hit me right this minute that as familiar as this year has seemed to every other year I've been here, it's actually the start to a whole 'nother journey. I won't get this routine start next year. I'll be goodness-knows-where in 365 days, away from this sunny paradise of a haven.
Forgive the panicked rambling, but to all the other college seniors out there - we're all in this together, at least!
Anyone else - students and non-students - having moments of crazy?