I've often wanted to go back to college for a week. Not to take classes but to bask in a world with very few responsibilities and even less cares. As I remember it, that was the last time I felt in complete control (or enjoyed the feeling of being out of control).
But I received a little wake up call this weekend. I was rummaging around my storage room and ran across three completed journals, beginning from my high school days through my first job offer after college. I hesitated before opening any of them. I remember very vividly how I lived back then. And while I appreciate my momentary craziness, I wasn't sure I was ready to revisit it. Especially from the voice of the crazy lady.
A day later and I had read or at least skimmed all three books. Wow. I didn't know anything. I didn't understand certain feelings. And thank God I didn't do half the stuff I said I wanted to. Like any typical girl, 90 percent of it was about guys. An obvious waste of time. And the other 10 percent was about where I was going and what I was going to accomplish and no one would stop me, blah, blah, blah.
While I'm glad I'm not that person anymore, I still feel as though I may have failed that crazy lady. I gave in to being comfortable. To not taking any great risks. I gave up on being that spontaneous, fun and confident young woman. And I'm not sure I'm any better off. (although maybe my family is)
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