I decided to write down my thoughts every day of my last week of my freshman year of college, just so I could look at it now and laugh at what exams, anxiety, and lack of sleep did to my brain.
Monday, May the second:
I want sleep. I’m not hungry, but it would screw up my metabolism if I didn’t, right? Hmm. I also have money on my ID card that will go to waste…time to buy Starbucks and plant based snacks and biodegradable deodorant! Wait. I have a final coming up soon, right? Hmm. Study…or watch people get ready for the Met gala? How many people actually get invited? What did they do to get invited? What am I doing with my life- I should be doing something Met gala worthy. Why can’t I SLEEP?! (I believe this last sentence was when I checked in around midnight after long restlessly for two hours- I get anxiety at night, and it’s worse if I can’t sleep).
I’m assuming I fell asleep, because the last sentence was a jumble of letters that I suspect were the result of my phone hitting my face.
Tuesday, May third:
Whoa! Last day of classes! I think I’ll miss my French and English classes the most. I liked sitting in the front of the class. It just occurred to me that I never looked at who sat behind me in my classes, so I’m only acquainted with the people who say in my row. Note to self: stop listening to One Dance by Drake before you make yourself hate it. Maybe I should actually go to the vegan place everyone keeps mentioning. *goes to only vegan friendly cafe in town* OH MY GOODNESS they have wheatgrass! They have agave!? They have acaí?! They put Colombian chocolate and cacao in their smoothies!? *Samples six smoothies* *decides to get food instead because they have kale wraps* Vegan food is good. Food is good. Food. Food. Note to self: learn to contain yourself when you see vegan safe places. Hold up – they have composted utensils and cups *squeals*. Reread latest note to self. Thirty minutes writing a final assignment= nothing left to do until Friday, aside from hand delivering my final assignment and eight page analysis over a book. Life is good. It’s the little things. Like smoothies. Like white bean kale wraps. <- rereading latest note to self again. Speaking of little things, I made the best decision of my life and instead of immediately folding my laundry, I’m lying in it while it’s burning. I’m so happy I have a high pain/heat tolerance. I mean, I’m red all over but it’s worth it, since I’m always cold. *lies in silence for twenty minutes fluffing laundry around self like an awkward pigeon* I found an unused nose strip in intact packaging. Hmm. A girl should always pamper herself.
Thirty minutes later: OW (it meant it when it said twenty minutes max)
Late night thoughts: I should really start packing my stuff to move out. I should get out of this now cold pile of laundry.
Wednesday, May the fourth:
Typing. Typing. Essay. Ooh! Starbucks! Packing….I hate packing. Nah. YouTube it is. Jon Snow is actually alive(?(!!!!!)?). Let’s watch the clip again. His gasp scares me every time. *Watches Jon Snow come back to life ten times*. I stared at the ceiling today. I mentally planned how much I had to fit in a two by three by one suitcase. Not much. How on earth have I accumulated so much? Time to look up how to tidy up. Google says I need to become a minimalist or I’ll get overwhelmed by material possessions and fall into a downward spiral of consumerism and emptiness. Je me sens vide. Ça ne m’étonne pas plus. (Quote from French Vogue, in February, translated: I feel empty. That does not surprise me anymore.) Maybe when I get home I can become a minimalist. Wait- can fashion pundits become minimalists? Are we the fashion obsessed condemned to fall with the sinking ship because of technology and fashion burn-out???!!!! Am I still freaking out because Alexander Wang is out of Balenciaga seven months later??!
You better believe I fell asleep pondering this. No continuous train of thought; just thoughts floating through my head. I dreamed of being at a board meeting of my college professors failing me for unknown reasons.
Thursday, May fifth:
My final assignment is done. I can go turn it in. Can I go home now? Clouds part, and it occurs to me that I still have not studied for my french final that’s tomorrow at 8 am. Thanks conscience, for appearing now. Let’s study for now. Two hours staring at french words in a cold room. Oh look. My roommate is singing. No studying today. *Leaves apartment for a colder albeit quieter place*. I hate packing stuff. When my sister moved out after freshman year she hardly packed. Guess I’ll pack everything. Oh crap. I have to eat all of my veggies so none go bad. *Eats two cups of sugar snap peas and twelve cherry tomatoes and two glasses of cashew milk and two servings of almonds and a stalk of celery. I’m going home tomorrow I’m going home tomorrow home is nice home is great home home home HOMMMMMMME. (Fell asleep here)
Friday, May sixth:
HOMMMMMMMME (Continuity). Bye French – see you soon – sincerely, NOT fluent. <– I just came back to say that this must have made sense to me when I wrote it, but now its so random that I left it there and didn’t edit it out, because it is too funny.
I don’t think to tell Dad to bring a second car to help me move home again. The car is so stuffed, I swear Dad cannot see in his rear view mirror.
One car ride later= SO MUCH UNPACKING I feel claustrophobic. Is it normal to get anxiety from having much more than you need? Is it normal to be disgusted by belongings and to purge yourself of items out of immense guilt of hoarding items that aren’t even eco-friendly? I should get that New York Times bestseller that says that I should tidy up more. No, then that counts as consumption, and I have no space for another book. Ugh.
Lying down later- Whoa. I’m done with my first year of college. Holy asidfjaklsdnfhdfjsfihringr. Sleep sounds nice. WAIT did I leave my contacts in my apartment before I checked out of there and surrendered my key?! *falls asleep*
P.S. I didn’t leave my contacts behind.
Moral of the story- get sleep, or you won’t remember to write with tenses and you won’t suffer delusions of grandeur that specifically make you think you’re William Faulkner and write in a stream of consciousness. Yay, my first year is over! Here is my documentation of my outfit on Wednesday, trying to figure out what to pack and when, and trying to stay calm as my roommates pile their stuff everywhere.