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It’s almost six o’clock and I have done nothing today. This is what being out of school is doing to me. My weekdays are just shorter. I work for three or four hours with my piano teacher, then come home and do what I want until I have to go to bed. That’s the only difference. Late weeknights hurt me because I have to get up in the morning. Just like school.

College! I got a booklet from the Office of Resident Life, and one from University Honors, yesterday. Being in Honors Humanities, I’m supposed to move onto campus on August 26th. I imagine my first weekend on campus will be lonelier than most. My birthday is the 30th, which is also the first day of classes. I’m in for either a doubly-good, doubly-bad, or half-and-half day. With all the stress and trials beginning college causes to everyone, I’m expecting doubly-bad. I also found out a few hours ago that Greg was not admitted to UMD for the fall, which means he won’t be around to help me celebrate. That sucks, for that reason and because it has put him farther into the downtrodden state he’s been in lately. I wanted him to get in, not only to be with me, but also to boost his self-esteem. Now, I’m not sure what to do.

Anyway, I originally planned to write up a packing list today. I need to decide what I’m taking. I also have to make a big list of “don’t forgets” like my vitamins, a shower caddy, and a power strip. I’m also anxious to get in touch with my roommate. I’ve never had a roommate for longer than a week, so this is a big deal. I hope I like her. I can generally get along with all kinds of people. The few that claim to hate me usually do so because I’m smart. I get good grades, and I’m not a… well, I don’t swear, but you can fill in the blank there. That confuses people. Too bad for them. (And while I’m on the subject, “hate” is such an overused word. I feel intense dislike for people and things at times, but I rarely ever hate.)

I’m just anxious about the future in general. I’m in for a tremendous life change, probably the biggest until I get married (if I do). I’m not ready to be a grown-up. When something happens that I don’t think I can handle, I call my mom. I’m not ashamed to admit that, but it definitely makes me feel more like a child. I have a great family. As far as parents go, mine are pretty good. They have standard parental issues, but otherwise we coexist happily. I’m so dependent on them, though. Some of my friends have more strained relationships with their parents, which lead them to be as independent as possible. They’re ready to be grown-ups. I’m not independent like that. I need my parents, I truly do. They’ll still be around. I may wind up moving back here next year, but that’s still tentative. I have a whole summer to get used to the concept. I’ve survived so far. I sense steeper climbing in the future, but I’m getting better at handling the terrain every day.



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