Nerves

In a little under a month, I will be starting the hardest job of my life thus far. I keep getting asked if I'm nervous. The correct thing would be to smile and graciously tell the questioner that you're just excited to take on the position.

But what do we find? A semi-shaking, semi-frightened, mostly-caffeinated 21-year-old who still gets confused about the meaning of "facetious." (Seriously. I keep having to look it up. I'm looking it up right now, in fact.)

It would be wrong to tell you that I'm not excited. I'm very excited, actually. It's going to be a big year - both for myself and for this school - and I can't wait to be able to witness it all.

It would also be wrong to tell you that I'm not nervous. Something like this doesn't pass easily, but I've been told I'm a fighter. So we'll see how that works out.

At 6:30 am on Saturday morning, I stood at the waterfront with my closest friends, laughing and throwing rocks and generally being too loud for sunrise. We were all so tired and so stressed but so happy.

I know my friends will carry me through it all. And when they can't, I suppose my growing collection of books (I stress-buy a lot of my literature) will walk me through it. 

It's incredibly difficult to say goodbye to one year. Here's hoping that the next one will be just as great, if not better.

Anyways, here's something pretty.