seems to be spiraling toward a post-grad life I've successfully
avoided for 5 full years now.
not that I just don't want to grow up—it's not having a plan. It's
not knowing where I'm living in six weeks or what I'm going to be
doing in six weeks. I love my parents, I really do. But moving in
with them, jobless, after spending (roughly) $120,000 on this
this Wednesday I'm not wordless; I'm wistful. Wistful for Freshman
year where skipping class and day drinking wasn't such a big deal.
Wistful for going out with Mallory every night of the week
and not having a monster hangover.
(almost)(sorta) ready to start my post-grad grown up life. Until
then, Immma be a little wistful.