As the new school semester commenced yesterday, and continues on today, I can’t believe how weird it feels. It’s not like my other semesters. My class load is not easier. Not by a long shot. But staring at the syllabi isn’t freaking me out. I have a sense that “I can do this!” Piece of cake. And for now, the senioritis that I experienced last semester has dissipated. For me, not freaking out and not wanting to procrastinate is just… weird. awkward. Not my style.
My bookbag is lighter. I only have one lit anthology instead of two or possibly three. My psych books are thin and not exactly what I’d call heavy. Not that they were ever to close to the lit anthologies in that respect anyways. Even with my laptop added on, my bookbag is not its normal heavy self that everyone gives me grief about. As much as I appreciate the lack of weight, it feels weird.
Even campus feels different. As I walked across campus this morning with my books freshly picked up from the bookstore, I could’t help but realize this is my last semester. The last time I’ll pick up books. I have few days to walk across campus in the early morning light or the late night darkness. Or to spend in a computer lab pounding out a paper.
Yesterday one of my friends commented o the fact that we had 118 days left. I wouldn’t be surprised if she counts down the days in every class. I’ll be enthusiastic with her, but nervous at the future to come.
The campus that took forever (and by forever I mean about a year and a half) to feel like home still feels like home, but I can feel that feeling slowly ebbing as my time ends. I was where I was meant to be and soon I won’t be. It’s weird. Kind of like when graduating High School, only on a larger scale with loans tacked on. The future looming because SO MANY CHOICES.
Hm. the future. Still scary. Always will be, I guess. But along with all of the future is the now. The beautiful, if not cold, awkward now. & I can’t wait to cherish the moments that lead to the ending.