Senior Year

It's been a long day. Or, rather, it's been a long string of days - starting with Monday's last-minute goodbyes, followed by Tuesday's packing frenzy, Wednesday's 3 1/2 hour drive (through pouring rain) to get to Gordon for a class, and ending (please, God) with 2 days of heavy lifting and unpacking. My shoulders hurt. My muscles are swollen. The splinter in my foot has become an unholy shade of rouge. I don't dare look in the mirror.

This is what my "heavy box" search produced.

But I'm back.

Yesterday I spent some time getting reacquainted with my good friend Melissa. We reminisced on friendships past and present, years that seemed to fly by, and the future that awaits us. It struck me that students at Gordon and everywhere, I suspect, live in constant search of their "future". So much so that the present is gravely overshadowed.

Those of you who know me well are guffawing. Yes, guffawing. This word is the only accurate descriptor of that mix of amusement and hypocrite-recognition which I have prompted.

It's true. I'm just about the worst poster child for "living in the moment". I've got a continuously and conscientiously updated resume and cover letter to prove it. I've got the fellowships, honors programs, scholarships and work experience that put me in the category of "likely to get hired post-graduation" and also "most likely to have a panic attack at age 22". In the last four years, I can think of very little that I've done without purpose toward the future. To put it quite frankly, I'm tired.

As I sit here in our first apartment, freshly decorated and full of love, I'm finally basking in the present. It's a glow that I've carried with me for the last 24 hours - I've run into good friends on campus, appreciated two wonderful jobs, fell in love (again) with the school that showed me faith in a whole new light, and embraced my course load as the education-lover I've always been. I can step back and say that I'm truly happy. Blissfully and remarkably so.
Senior year - I'm ready.

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