It was the week of finals at Luther College. I was flipping through old notes, re-reading important passages and flying through flashcards in order to retain as much information as possible. This was one of the most difficult study sessions I had had in a while. No matter how much I tried to memorize facts about important figures from Roman history, or work out which quotes came from which Shakespearean play, I could barely soak any of it in. I was completely distracted. All I could think about was how excited I was over the approaching reality of summer break. My mind was filled with barbecue cookouts, 80 degree sunbathing and Fourth of July fireworks. I couldn't wait. But little did I realize that my summer vacation would not be all I had daydreamed it would be.
When I was a kid, summer break was the most incredible time of my life. I played summer sports, had several play dates at my local water park and convinced my mom to buy me ice cream whenever I got "too warm." The world was my own personal playground and I felt free to run around and enjoy the sun without a care.
During my first week being back home from college, I experienced a similar freedom that I felt when I was a kid. Still recuperating from my strenuous studies, I welcomed the more laid back lifestyle and allowed my days to fly by with minimal worry. I watched the first three seasons of "Orange is the New Black" in five days. I went on walks that would sometimes reach two hours in length. I would scroll through each of my social media outlets until I exhausted all of the new information provided to me. For those first few days, life was careless, fun and seemingly perfect.
After the first week, however, this type of lifestyle became irritatingly monotonous. Unlike my childhood self who never grew tired of my endless fun, I became sick of leisure very quickly. Not only did I become bored with how I spent my time, I also felt strangely guilty about it. As each idle day continued to pass, I began to realize that I am a person who needs to be productive in order to feel a sense of purpose. At least at school I am kept busy with classes, tennis practice, homework and hanging out with friends. At home, I don't have nearly as many responsibilities.
Another thing that I am struggling to cope with this summer is a certain amount of isolation. At Luther, it is really easy to socialize -- especially living in the dorms. If I am having a rough day or just need some company, I can easily walk across the hall to a friend's room and talk. At home it isn't so simple. A lot of my friends from college live in different cities or states which complicates get-togethers when we can't determine where or when we should meet. And sure, I can always remain in touch with them through phone calls and texts, but those things can never truly compare to the experience of face-to-face interaction.
So, all summer I have been trying to distract myself from these trials by keeping busy. I have been engrossing myself in the novel series "Outlander" by Diana Gabaldon. I have joined an online writing center called "Prose." In order to keep practicing my craft. I spend the majority of my weekends traveling to tennis tournaments located around the Midwest. Even though these things have been somewhat therapeutic, they haven't totally cured my current distaste for this seemingly endless summer. They distract me for a while, but it doesn't last.
It is clear to me that I am reacting this way because of how much I miss the college lifestyle. I miss the dorms that instigate a closeness between me and my fellow peers. I miss the gorgeous scenery found on the Luther campus and in downtown Decorah. I miss the close relationships I have made with students and professors alike. All of this and more has unfortunately spoiled me, causing the rejuvenation of summer to not be satisfying enough.
I never imagined that I would feel this way about summer break. It baffles me how much my current feelings toward it sharply contrasts with my feelings toward it when I was a kid. But in fairness, I didn't know anything outside my Dakota County life when I was young. I didn't know that there could be a place separate from my parents' house that could also hold a piece of my heart. Luther has become that place; my home away from home. I wish I were there now.
But I can't go back; not yet, anyway. There are several weeks left of summer and, as odd as this may sound, I must endure it. I don't foresee my boredom or isolation dissipating before I return to Luther, but I will try my best to relish my remaining days of relaxation. Therefore, I must attempt to enjoy the summer sun, continue to exercise to my hearts content and spend quality time with my family while simultaneously counting the days until I can return to campus.
