I don’t like countdowns. Almost every weekend in the winter, I stand in a starting gate somewhere in New England, listening to a clock robotically count down from five at the beginning of a race. It doesn’t matter how many times I do it, my stomach still feels uneasy; as if something’s just not quite right. I have that exact feeling in my stomach right now, because as I write this, there are 100 days until graduation. In other words, this is starting to get real. I don’t know if it’s obvious or not, but I am probably the most nostalgic person you’ll ever meet, and situations like this become a big deal in my mind.
In 100 days I won’t be drinking tea and arguing about politics in the dining hall with my classmates into the late evening. In 100 days I won’t be listening to music in the writing center while I try to work out my latest English essay. In 100 days I won’t be sitting at my kitchen counter puzzling over indecipherable biological concepts over the dull churn of the dishwasher. In 100 days I won’t be sweating in the wood fired sauna behind Ordway Hall: 130 degrees Fahrenheit and climbing.
The thought of leaving all of these things in the past is painful, but I am happy to have accumulated so many fond memories in the first place. To my classmates– Cheers to four wonderful years, and I wish you all the best in these last 100 days.
(I don’t have any interesting photographs to go along with this post, so I’ll leave you with an N.C. Wyeth painting that I’ve been transfixed by for the past couple days. Tell me what you think of it.)