It's waiting for you to spend hours racking your mind for anything remotely exciting you've done in the past four years, for you to visit and interview, to mingle and attempt to impress, just so someone behind a desk can decide from a few sheets of paper if they like you or not. If you took that AP test or spent a few extra nights out to dinner with your family. If you were in that club or did that sport or had that job.
And also, what did people talk to me about before junior year? I really can't remember the last conversation I had with an adult that didn't include my college plans. Not that they really care. It's more of a way to categorize us when they have no other way to relate to anyone under 30. Are we an ivy leaguer? Or a state schooler? A city dweller? Or a college towner? Are we set on staying close to home? Or eager to get the hell out of here?
Which brings me to my next point... Holy crap. (Or holy crow if you just read the Twilight series.) But seriously. We're leaving in less than two years. What if we don't make friends? What if we go too far and miss our mommies? What if we don't go far enough and
our families visit way too often?
Basically, I have no idea what I want from college. My plans stretch from Rhode Island to Florida to California and back again to New York and Boston. But I'm trying not to limit myself because, in the end, you really don't want to be your own worst enemy. It sucks when you only have yourself to blame. All I know is I'm way behind on my studying... And I think this postcard is pretty legit.