I’m not going back to school. It’s officially starting to sink in. I’ve been in school since I was three years old and my life revolved around it — clubs, due dates, essays, exams, back to school shopping, that first day of school outfit, schedules and teachers.
This is the first year of my life that I’m not begging to go back to school shopping. It’s the first year that I’m not tirelessly deciding what to wear on that first day back.
I’ve always been someone who tried really hard in school. I always studied and handed assignments in on time. When I did poorly on exams or papers, I got genuinely upset and fell into a funk. It feels almost sad that all of those years have amounted to a single diploma…one that, now that I’m thinking about it, I’m not entirely sure where I put it.
I’m quite Type A in the sense that I like to know what’s going to happen next. I like having at least a vague sense of plans. With school, there was the structure I needed. You knew what came next. Maybe you didn’t know what school you’d end up in, but you knew what to expect. Or, at least where you were going next. It was a checklist:
