Transition.


Hey internet. It is a beautimous day here in where-I-live and the tourists are flowing regularly through the visitor’s centre. It’s move-in weekend for both of the colleges up here, so we’ve had a regular flow of people moving their kids in and wanting to know how to get to Bed Bath and Beyond and Tarjay and Weggies to buy bed sheets and computer cords and stuff.

If I may wax poetic for a moment (and I may, because it’s my blog and I do what I want) I feel weird about student move-in this year. Not like, I-really-miss-being-in-college-and-wish-I-was-moving-in-myself weird, but more of a I-feel-very-disconnected-from-this-entire-process weird. Which is in itself weird, because last year when the students came back, I was so upset that I moped around for a week and had long conversations with anyone who would listen that I hated everything and wanted to move back to my college town.

Weird.

Weird weird weird.

You know when you write a word too many times and it just starts to look like it’s not a real word anymore?

Yeah.

Yet I digress.

Life is like that. One day you’re pretty sure you are going to be a princess when you grow up, or that you’re meant to be with the person you’re dating for the rest of forever, or that you can’t graduate from college and become a real person being the idea makes you physically ill. In the moment, your emotions are too big and spiky and powerful to disconnect from them.

So you ride it out. And you deal with the fallout, and take the day moment by minute by millisecond.

The next day, or week, or year, miraculously, things change. You’re pretty sure that you actually want to be a doctor, not a princess, and yeah, thinking back on it, your last boyfriend was a total ass, and weirdly enough, you are really glad you don’t go to college anymore.

If you’re going through that right now, it won’t last, I promise.

Ride it out, my friends.

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