- I did not dress up for my first class. I rolled out of bed, washed my face, grunted a little, then stumbled out the door.
-I bought a backpack. When I was eighteen I thought I was too cool for a backback. Backpacks were for those baby high-schoolers. So long LL Bean. So I bought a hip messenger bag from Urban Outfitters (groan). No one ever told me that hip messenger bags do not spread the weight of your eight tons of books around evenly and instead puts all the stress onto one single shoulder. Now I am once again rocking an LL Bean backpack, only this time it doesn't have my initials on it. I thought about it though.
-I have not spent my first week of class going out to every bar that has a 2 dollar vodka special and a not so strict ID policy. Nor have I ingested Red Bull, Yaeger, or any combination of the two. And unless force fed, never will I again.
-I have not gotten lost, yet.
-I ordred all of my books a solid two weeks ahead of time, instead of frantically searching the bookstore the day all of my classes start and standing in line for two hours with all of my other slacker classmates.
-I have not been too a class so hungover that I later looked at my notes and was unable to tell if I had been writing in English.
-I have not burnt myself trying to smoke a cigarette while standing in line for 3am pizza only to realize too late that I hate smoking and the pizza was made by dirty hippies.
Isn't it sickening? I'm an adult this time. And it may be way less fun, but I'm pretty sure my liver and my GPA will thank me.
Oh college, meant for the young and stupid, but so much better suited to the old and boring :)