So here’s the deal. I super really one thousand percent love my life right now. I love where we are, our friends, our home, our dog, the house we live in, where I work, every little thing.
But sometimes I feel like I would sell my soul to be able to go back in time roughly 5 or 6 years to my college days in Tuscaloosa, spending this crazy, end of summer time settling into a new apartment, getting ready to devote my life to rush workshop and rush, enjoying the AMAZING drink specials at the bars every night while wearing a little too much bronzer and either a giant t-shirt or a dress that may be 1/2 inch too short (depending on the days events,) heading to someone’s apartment pool from 10 am - 7 pm while enjoying some beers, and generally having the time of my life without even realizing it. By the end of my last semester, I was so desperate to be done. So burned out. Working almost full time while finishing my last 4 classes. It was the fall semester and those last December finals were just tough to focus on. I kept thinking about this moment that I’m in right now, where I have a good job that pays well and things are settled and we’re all trying to be adults.
My sister is about to start her final year of grad school, and she mentioned last week that students were already starting to crowd the Tuscaloosa Target again and she was already dreading the crush of all 30,000+ students returning to town. I told her I would definitely trade places with her as I had just been daydreaming about walking across the quad to my first week of classes of a new fall semester under the hot August sun before taking a nap on Blake’s futon while he played video games with a brother in his room at the Pi Kapp house. Or walking into the Alpha Gam house and signing up for the newest swap tshirt to go up on the board before grabbing a bag of Baked Lays or heading into chapter. Away games, Friday night band parties, and giggle fests on the couch with Kelly. All of it, really. Even the all night studying sessions, right down to the last one in Rogers library.
I realize things are so good now, and everyone has to grow up and stop being that crazy irresponsible college kid having boxed wine at 2 pm on a Friday or hitting up happy hour and proceeding to throw loud, raucous dance parties on your best friends’ porch until 3 am. I see the irony in my 21, 22 year old self wishing to be 25, 26 and settled in while my 25 year old self wishes to be 20 or 21 again.
But just one week back in that girls shoes would be pretty dang fun, huh?
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