Last night as I looked around at the group attending our first mixer of the semester, I couldn't help but think, "Man, I'm too old for this shit!"
Don't get me wrong, I totally know that I'm not actually old, but it seems that I may be too old for the activities and behaviors that drove the action of my previous three years. Before, going out every night of the week to the same bar was a thrill. So many new people to meet, so many new things to do. But now those same former thrills feel tired and, quite frankly, so not my scene.
As I took in the scantily clad freshman, I took a look at my own outfit. Very on-theme, but so not sexy and I realized that I really didn't care. At this point I've met my bridesmaids, formed my crew, and discovered who I am. So maybe I'm not quite as fun as I once was... But for that matter, isn't fun relative? Discovering the scene and forging a path is for the youths. By this time sitting on the couch watching American Horror Story and drinking wine with my roommates is a treat. Maybe its because as a freshman, your time is endless. You are invincible and have so much to come. As a senior, your days are numbered. There are only so many hours before a lifetime of real responsibility and grown-up behaviors. And while wearing body-con dresses and hitting the pregames were once the ways that I utilized my time, I now feel that it's those precious moments spent in the company of the friends who were really there that matters. I admit it: I'm old. And I couldn't be happier.
