Everyday around 4 o’clock I wake up and find my way through a fun sized bag of Cheetos, watching the next Netflix or Hulu hit, and trying to remind myself that I’m not all that awful. I remember how I got here as a mental slap in the face to remind myself to be grateful. This bag of Cheetos was 75 cents, after all.
You see, I’ve caught something called springitus. It’s like senioritis, but for SCAD students in the spring quarter. I’ve got hives I’ve been itching that are yearning to go back home. Why though?
Every night I focus my energy to whatever external force is out there to let this summer be the best one yet. Maybe it’ll be contagious and spread into next school year.
My high was last summer. It isn’t just the heat and sun rays soaking in my skin, though I do miss that a ton. It was the solid friendships, solid career, solid food, solid homes. I guess I haven’t always balanced those four things since.
I went on a road trip last fall to college and headed right into a hurricane, both metaphorically and literally. School got delayed because of Hurricane Irma. The goodbye to my parents was even more heartbreaking, I didn’t want to leave them in a natural disaster, but I definitely left them looking like an emotional disaster.
My first quarter went by and I went on autopilot. I had gotten everything I had wanted but never had in high school, just within the first week. I guess they were kinda right about being careful what you wish for. Listen, I still accept career success and strong friendship with open arms, but I sometimes feel I really haven’t gotten there yet. My second quarter would prove that.
Winter quarter kicked my ass and helped straighten me up. Kind of like Anne Hathaway learning how to be a princess. I learned I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. As long as I keep my pinky out, I’ll at least be giving them the regal version of the middle finger. A lady knows that she couldn’t care less. Last quarter was the class where you learn every single word from that textbook. Now I’m in the process of balancing those same textbooks on my head and showing everyone that this woman knows where she wants to go. I just hope everyone will listen and take me seriously this time. The next steps are to finish my training and find my tiara.
So now I’m sitting here, not taking princess lessons, but I do wear pink almost every day and pride myself on the French tips I did myself. Still, those French tips aren’t sipping tea, they’re turning orange from Cheeto dust. Why am I weaseling thru these chips anyways? I’ve never loved Cheetos. I guess the last time I really ate Cheetos and enjoyed it was last summer. Of freaking course.