It's weird to imagine it, but I, like my classmates and friends, are on the verge of graduating college. I've got a little over a year left. I registered for classes yesterday morning, and as I looked over the piece of notebook paper that lists my remaining courses, I got nervous of how close it all is. I'm down to my last fifteen classes. Three semesters left, or if I get complacent, three and one summer class.
You know when I was growing up, and my parent's ever said "back when i was in college" I always thought of being so old. The pictures in the yearbooks were these adults with futures, that and black and white photos with bad clothes, worse hairdos, and quotes about the bicentennial and the end of disco. But I don't see that today.
Today, I see a bunch of kids walking around campus. I kinda see myself from an outer perspective having these adult conversations with professors and I wonder who the hell that is and what happened to that kid with the bowl cut and braces that couldn't run hurdles for shit at Parkside Middle. What happened to borrowing Mom's car to go out and riding bikes around the neighborhood with my cousins and JD? What happened to playing "guns" JD?
I'm looking forward to growing up. Everyday someone in this apartment will say, "I can't wait to graduate and get out of this place!" For me, I'm stuck. Growing up means moving on and accepting that I can't claim ignorance, as much as it may be true.
So here's to the next 18 months. Because after that, well I won't be any different. I'll just have a piece of paper saying that I'm not irresponsible.
(It's all a lie)