For most of us, Summer is in full swing. It seems as though the farther south you go, the earlier your university breaks for the summer. University of Michigan you go against this and get out in April, thanks.
Finals week summer was the only thing getting us through, that last exam, that all-nighter, that twenty-five-page paper.
And then finally it happened, we turned in our last exam and skipped town as fast as we could. We were so excited to see our family, friends, and most importantly our furry friends; our dogs. The first few days were spent doing a compilation of sleeping, eating at the town staples, seeing high school friends, and doing absolutely nothing. It was bliss, we were so utterly exhausted and needed a detox. But then day four to five rolls around. You wake up and that "ahh, I am home" bliss feeling is nowhere to be found. The only observation is your mom yelling from downstairs, saying "you need to clean your room, you haven't even been home a week and its a wreck".
How did I do? Nailed it on the head? I thought so.
Days start to get longer, there is less to do until summer jobs, and internships begin. We start to lay aimlessly, which only leads to the constant reminder, we are not home. You are, but the shi**y apartment you share with your degenerate friends is what you picture home to be. It may be messy and there may not be a warm loving mothers embrace every time you walk through the door, but maybe that's a good thing. Your rules were deemed by yourself. There was no one calling you while with friends asking when you will be home. There was no one in your apartment asking where you were going.
We get so used to living on our own that coming back to months of reporting to someone, seems like torture. We feel as though we are too old to be told what to do.
We speak freely, taking time to adjust to the fact that we are not with our friends, or merely anyone in our age group that would understand or favor our humor, and slang.
It's weird and unfamiliar. The first fight happens with your parents about a week in. They find how you have changed, and it freaks them the hell out, so they yell. They need to get it out, they haven't had you under their watch in months, so they butter you up and tell you how great it is to have you home, but ones you're good and marinated, its time to get grilled. Its natural, or so they say, sigh.
Every year we feel as though we are ready again for summer break, Thanksgiving and Winter break went swimmingly, whats the difference? Uh, two weeks and four months.
Pick your battles, my friends, because if it's you versus mom, mom always wins.
Hey August 27th, hurry up, I'm ready.
