Weird things happen in college. You are on your own, you change, you witness a girl vomit into her purse. With these groundbreaking changes come some godawful realizations and questions.
What the hell happened to my body?
While you once had the metabolism of a 10 year old, that ship sailed and aggressively sank like the Titanic. Your friends start ordering obscene stuff like Sweetgreen and you just want to all go back to being the MVPs of finger food. In high school everyone pretended to be so grown up, drinking alcohol on the weekends, but that was followed that by hovering over a grilled cheese, chicken fingers and mozzarella sticks like you were having your last meal before the electric chair. Or maybe that was just me. My own personal grown-up food epiphany was when the cafe at the gym referred to balsamic dressing as, "balsamic reduction," which sounds like a natural disaster of sorts.
Why am I so poor?
Particularly at a school like GW, realizing you don't have two nickels to rub together on a college budget becomes apparent very quickly. "Mom, can't I just live at The Avenue and I'll never go shopping again or get any Christmas presents or Uber ever?" And you gently weep into your Target bedding.
I have suddenly found myself in a sea of trust fund hippies wearing cashmere Grateful Dead sweaters and carrying Celine bags to class. One minute you are basking in the support of your parents, and the next you are using Chipotle napkins as toilet paper.
Why do I have all of this free time?
Sitting around at home laughing too hard at Spongebob was not weird in high school. Now, I have to try and be social all the time so I don't look like a reclusive hag. There are so many opportunities for activities! But the nest of food and blankies on my bed is calling me, and I am not sure I am up for squeezing my feet into heels that make torture look fun. Is this what it feels like to become elderly? Spending too much time alone in the concrete box that is your freshman dorm is enough to make you go #craycray.
Once you accept these self-deprecating horrors, things will become easier. It is healthy to laugh at your own poverty and get past it, because money will not buy you happiness, although, it can buy you hot clothes and dank food so I am still unsure about that one. If you see your body starting to change for the worse, just be like, "Hey, Mom/Dad body, nice to meet you." Accept what you cannot change and you will be one step closer to authentic happiness and a Lena Dunham-status free spirit. Isn't that what we all really want, anyway?
