In high school, I was the biggest goody-two-shoes there ever was.
Hours of my free time in the afternoons were spent not at Sonic Drive Thru
sampling a rainbow of drink options with friends (I did that on weekends... duh.),
not going to friends' houses to do I-don't-even-know-what-because-I-never-went,
but on classroom couches, grilling my teachers about their weekend plans
and kids and how do you really feel about us?
I was ... special.
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But through all those weeks of helping teachers grade papers,
or arranging meetings with other nerd-friends on how to save the environment,
I'd always be thinking "high school's setting me back. When I'm in college..."
I'd party till dawn.
Live the rockstar lifestyle.
Be the biggest social butterfly who ever fluttered the earth.
After still being completely knackered from last weekend,
you know what I did this weekend?
I didn't change out of my pajamas at all;
I set a personal goal of watching an entire season of FRIENDS,
and knocking out a few movies while I was at it;
I drew the blinds and shunned the sunshine,
and laid happily in my down blanket cocoon and refused to ... flutter,
except to go grab a humongous burrito because
hey, I'm in college - I do what I want. (YOLO.)
I'll give you a second to process my wild ways.
Now, wait for it.
It was toga party this past weekend.
-My high school self is slapping my current self right now-
The most quintessentially college-party-life you could get.
And the entire duration of the party, I was a zombie in my room,
sobbing hysterically (happy tears! happy tears!) to The One With The Proposal, thinking:
Chandler and Monica and Rachel and Phoebe and Joey and Ross
never had to go out (okay, at least they didn't show it - and what's not shown, is irrelevant).
Moral of this story about nothing:
When forced to choose between sweaty frats/making an effort,
I don't have to tell you the answer.
Off to work on my Vitamin D deficiency,
and to remind my friends that I (somehow) still exist.
Practice being a recluse in moderation, people.