I know fifteen years down the road I’m going to regret this statement, but man, I can’t wait to get out of college and get back to work. I mean, the idea of being able to devote an entire day to a project… that’s just heavenly. Hopefully, life works out such that my job description entails a lot of flexibility and not *too* much "nose to the grindstone" – but I guess what this boils down to is a desperate need to realize that Econ 104 really isn’t an important part of life down the road.

Yes, I was one of those silly students who put off her freshman-level requirements until the last quarter of her senior year. I have a handful of bullshit classes left and I need to skate by to get this blasted degree. It’s such a pain.

I’m here, re-encountering folks I haven’t seen for a year. I keep hearing two phrases: “Your hair is so long.” OK, yes; that’s a valid observation. Redundant, obvious, yet acceptable. The second of which I find a little more unsettling: “You seem so much older.” Yikes. Can’t we go with mature? I mean, I know being away from school and home for awhile brings about some inevitable change, but older? I don’t know about that.

I had a micro-crisis last year when I saw an ad on TV for one of those compilation CDs filled with songs from my youth. Counting Crows, Bush, Gin Blossoms… it didn’t really occur to me that liking these bands was something that would date me. I realized how my parents must feel when my sister asks who Bob Dylan is. A recent car trip with my little sister produced a squabble when she skipped the old school Greenday song on a mixed CD. At 15 years old, all she knows is the American Idiot album and so on – and it hurts.

Who knows. Maybe I am old. At any rate, I’m eager to be done with school and get on with my life. Athens, you’ve been great to me, but it’s time to bounce out. I fully plan to listen to Jewel’s “Pieces of You” on the drive, from the CD, not from my iPod.