You don’t start to believe it until you hear your friends start talking about it. It’s that time of year when I should be stocking up on notebooks and modge-podging them to make them look pretty. I should be getting frustrated that professors haven’t sent their syllabuses out yet or even a book list! I should be getting excited to see my floor, my beautiful 7W. I’ve missed all those beautiful girls, and I should be excited about moving back in with them and meeting the new freshman. It feels wrong.
This year I’m stressing because I don’t have a job once school starts and I’m probably moving to a new apartment after September. I don’t want to do this. I want to take one more class. I never sat in a room with Dr. DeRosset and I still have to finish Historical Theology (I didn’t take the second segment). I want to take Fiction Writing and Church History. It’s slightly depressing to realize that it’s over. I could probably take another semesters worth of classes and be totally happy.
But this is a new chapter of my life. I am almost 22, which means I should be growing a little more mature than I was before (a very little bit). I have come to recognize that this new part is probably going to be one of the most depressing parts ever. I have been in school since I was 3. Yeah, that’s when I started learning how to read (THANK GOD!). That means that I spent 2 years of my life not in school, but I was in diapers and learning my motor skills, so I’m not sure that even counts. This will be my first year not in school. I already hate it.
I want to go to grad school and learn about literature. I want to study theology more (now that I’m finally interested in it…it only took me four years). I want to study abroad. I never got the chance and I’m regretting that big time.
I can’t do any of that until I pay off my loan and to do that I need a job. Which brings us full circle. On August 27th, most of my friends will be getting up to head to their first classes. They’ll make coffee (tea) and maybe head to the SDR for a crappy breakfast. The SDR will probably serve Ranch Chicken sandwiches for lunch with Mac n Cheese. Everyone will (FINALLY) receive their syllabuses and be frantically making lists of all the books they’ll need so they’ll know what to buy at the book sale on Tuesday. The freshman will wander with a slightly dazed look, wondering if they’ll ever get used to this. Bro/Sis floors will meet and have that awkward conversation during lunch.
“What’s your name?”
“Oh. I’m Bob.”
“Oh, cool. What’s your major?”
“Women’s Min. Yours?”
“What year are you?”
“I’m a freshman.”
“What year are you?”
“I’m a senior.”
And END SCENE. That conversation cracks me up. EVERYONE HAS IT. My favorite abrupt change was “What is your weapon of choice in the zombie apocalypse?” Mine’s a tank…
The point of all this is to say that I’m starting to realize how it’s over and I can’t go back. The only direction to go now is forward (or left or right. I do have some options). I have no doubt that over the next couple of weeks, it will hit me harder as people start to come back into the city and I train a new person to take over my job. It’s scary. I want to cry a little. But I refuse to go back.
If you’re a friend who’s getting ready to start a new semester, GOOD LUCK! 🙂