Cue the ruby red shoes, the witches, the lions, and the tin man.
There really is no place like school or a time in your life like the years you spent in school. It’s the only time in your life where there is a blanket ok to make stupid mistakes and decisions because that’s what you do. It’s the only time in your life when you’re taught to be independent while at the same time given no independence at all, except perhaps in college. It’s the only time in your life when all your friends are all conveniently under one roof. Quite frankly, it may be the only time in your life when you have friends, because let’s face it: as an adult, you have co-workers, a spouse, and babies. Ok, ok, maybe that’s a bit too cynical.
I’ve spent the last 18 years in school, and it was – all at once – stressful, exhilarating, frustrating, interesting, at times pointless, and at times extremely useful. And I loved every moment of it. I loved learning new things. I loved the sense of accomplishment when I spent hours trying to figure something out and it finally clicked. School was somewhere I always felt I belonged. I belonged in that lecture hall, with its wooden-backed, blue-cushioned seats, and the abandoned coffee cup in the fifth row that no one ever seemed to want to claim as theirs. I belonged in aisle 13 at Target, every September, picking out pens, pencils, and highlighters in an assortment of colors.
Now that it’s all over…I have no idea what on earth to do with myself. And so here I sit, in my room, blogging about how I don’t know what to do with myself, drinking coffee, and eating mango chunks.