'Tis the eve of sophomore year, and yet my mind remains stoutly in the chilled out mindset that is summer. It never really felt like summer to begin with, I guess, because no matter where I was, I always seemed to be looking a few days ahead, until today, when it finally dawned on me that it was over.
It wasn't a complete dud, though. I went intertubing and rock climbing; I did the Leap of Faith and did an improv session. I tie-dyed shirts and made lanyards and friendship bracelets. I dressed up in silly outfits and I biked to Jamba Juice. I watched Shutter Island in a dark tent in the early hours of the morning. I spent a week running after hyped-up preschoolers, and I spent a week scribbling furious notes while surrounded by a bunch of other journalism geeks. I checked out guys and rode roller coasters, and I learned to juggle.
There is no apprehension, no nerves, no mental-breakdown-utter-denial "I still have all the time in the world!" So bring it on, sophomore year. School starts tomorrow, and I'm unafraid. Hell, I'm more than unafraid - I'm pumped.