Three months until the end of what I thought was so restrictive, but was really liberating. Three months until so many people I love aren’t a quick walk away anymore.
Three months until reality sets in and I have to join some sort of professional workplace instead of spending summers lifeguarding. What happens in three months? I graduate college.
To negate the previous dramatics, graduating really isn’t that big of a deal. You get a piece of paper, probably move back home, maybe get a job, maybe don’t. You read a lot of Thought Catalog pieces telling you what you should do in your 20s, realize you’ve done none of them, and panic slightly before remembering that the person telling you what to do in your 20s is also in their 20s and probably doesn’t have their life together because they’re freelance writing on Thought Catalog.
And there’s that…
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