Posts published in “Senioritis”

One year ago today, I was a month into junior year. I was moved into my sorority house, excited to live with the people I have looked up to throughout my entire college experience.

It’s during late night frolics home that my deep love for Hoboken emulates through my body. As I walk past every street light (often in a delirious state of whimsy) and weave through the gridded streets, an overwhelming sense of calm washes over me — this is home, I know this.

So I recently got into running again. I don’t think I’ll be racing in the NYC Marathon in November, but I consider myself a hobby jogger — running for “fun” and health and some other reasons.

Help, I’ve been trapped in Morton 324 for the last three years! Just kidding, but not really. As a Quantitative Social Science major there has not been a single semester where I haven’t sat in this small seminar room, peering out the windows at Kidde on the other side of the lawn.

I found my old favorite perfume the other day. It was packed between my jewelry box and curly hair products while I was moving in for my senior year.

I feel like I was supposed to graduate last year. No, seriously, I am probably the first person to ever enter senior year feeling fulfilled enough.

There’s officially less than a month until graduation, and the days have been slipping through my fingers. My bulletproof defense to any hangout pushback I receive from my friends is, “It’s senior year.”

Like many of us, I grew up in a heteronormative world. My childhood was shaped by a loving family and a large public school, but it was a place where “normal” meant having a mom and a dad, boys with girlfriends, and cream-colored khakis — certainly not the pink chinos I preferred.

I basically live out of my Google Calendar when I am at school. I’ve got classes, meetings, appointments, assignments, hangouts, exams, presentations, reminders to submit Workday hours, practices, and GBMs galore, all neatly organized into one place.