A new semester is coming. I am not ready.
I use to think that since this summer is my LAST summer as a teenager, I should really relish ever single sweet moment of dependence I can.
Adulthood is basically aunts/uncles/grandparents/other relatives asking you:
1. When are you getting a job?
2. When are you getting a boyfriend?
3. When are you buying a “proper” house?
And yet. I took the “I-am-running-out-of-time” mask and decided to hoard everything I could this summer:
1. I got a job job. I mean. NOT internship but a job. Job. With okay pay.
2. I went abroad?? That counts for something right?
3. I’m working on my thesis. It’s group thesis. But still. Thesis.
4. I’m a fourth year student; I don’t need a boyfriend.
Jesus, I don’t even have notebooks yet. Or proper pens (I have 8 pens inside my pencil case but those don’t count okay because that was LAST year.)
This semester is going to kill me.