Business school. Blink 182. Bruins. Fashion. Punk. Life.
full time spreadsheet nerd.
DAY 1 OF COLLEGE YEAR 2.
WHAT WHAT WHAT. EVERYTHING IS AWESOME.
My roommate is mad (I can tell) because I got the bigger dresser. But, I got to the room first, and she has the better desk and book shelf, and she has the bed that is not up against all the windows, so she doesnt freeze her tits off in the winter.
I have homework already. I haven’t even started classes yet and I have homework
There is party constantly outside my window. That I cant go to, because I have homework. I would like to call myself a party-er. I love to party. I love to frat.
anyway. I love college.
CANT EVEN CONTAIN MY EXCITEMENT.
I am so, so excited. I can’t wait to see all my friends. I can’t wait to meet my new professors. I even can’t wait to see Alejandro at the deli line in the dining hall when I get a sandwich with his homemade chipotle sauce. It seems to always work out that, I believe, my friends and I have some sort of mutual understanding that even if we don’t talk every day over breaks and during the summer, it doesn’t mean that we have lost touch or that we aren’t excited to see each other again. I like it that way. Then it makes seeing them again all the more exciting, I think.
I am going to try my hardest not to make the same mistakes I did last year. Sure, mistakes will be made nonetheless - but just not the same ones. I will not waste my emotional efforts and strengths on someone who does not or cannot reciprocate them, I will not tolerate backstabbing or lies, I will try harder on my schoolwork, and I will not gain weight (crossing my fingers).
College was my savior last year. Even in those moments I hated it, most of the time it kept me from constantly crying for no reason, kept me involved in life, and kept me from giving up.
Once again, I’ll average 4-5 hours of sleep a night, I’ll have sweatpants and a t-shirt days, I’ll have unexpected adventures, I’ll cry over stupid things, I’ll get a bad exam grade, I’ll get so sick that Dayquil and Nyquil become my meal of choice, and I’ll have those too-drunk-to-give-a-fuck nights. I’ll get so stressed that my head will feel like it’s going to explode, and I’ll continue to not care what people think of me. I’ll cry and scream and laugh and yell and do it all over again, and you know what? I can’t fucking wait.
^THAT RIGHT THERE.
I LOVE COLLEGE
Trying to do a layout for the dorm room next year.
THERE ARE FEW OPTIONS THAT DONT INVOLVE BUNKING.