So today marks the beginning of week two of college. I have officially survived week one, mostly unscathed. The only battle wounds are achy shoulders from my 2,000 pound backpack and scuffed up feet from being stepped on at my first college party. I feel like that's pretty impressive considering all the opportunities for injury on campus. (i.e. getting run over by bikers who don't respect the pedestrian only walkways, starving to death after getting lost in one of the many thickets of pine trees, or suffering a concussion after tipping over backward on the library stairs due to the immense weight of my backpack.) All in all, things have gone pretty well.
I had a vision of how this morning was supposed to go. I foresaw a seamless, efficient, positive experience. I figured that, yes, I had been scattered for my FIRST week of college, but for the beginning of week two, I would be organized. I would be polished. I would be invigorated. I imagined waking up early as soon as my bleeping alarm signaled. I imagined having a sweaty workout while watching the morning news, followed by a serene yoga cool down to my favorite Enya tracks. I imagined choosing the perfect outfit- something in a minimalistic, monochromatic scheme but still peppered with unique accessories. I imagined buttered toast topped with perfectly fried eggs- their centers still lavishly runny. I IMAGINED THE PERFECT MORNING, OKAY?
What I got instead was sleeping through my alarm, waking up in a panic, rushing to get my bag packed, throwing on a real charming get-up of jean shorts stained with fry sauce, a ripped t shirt, and Tevas. TEVAS. There is nothing understatedly chic about bright aqua Tevas. Oh and those fried eggs on toast? Yeah a pack of fruit snacks and two stale tortilla chips.
College: 1, Samantha: 0
