I don’t hate my job…

but I don’t love it. This week marks the 3-month anniversary of me being hired, and the end of my probationary period. The end of the probationary period really just means that I can start accruing paid time off at an entry-level rate. And so, with these 90 days of experience behind me, I’ve been thinking a lot about this job and what I want for my future.

It’s weird to think that this is the point I’ve been working towards all my life. Entering the work-force – the one comprised of adults, those working full-time that have to commute and dress in business casual clothes instead of a uniform, those that aren’t simply filling the seasonal employment void – was the first thing I wasn’t prepared for, even though life up to this point was on on-ramp for success. Merging proved to be the difficulty, as it always has been for me. Am I going fast enough? Too fast? What if I cut someone off? What if I fuck up and wreck? I worried about everything that could go wrong, had contingency plans for contingency plans, but I never really stopped to think about what life would be like when everything went right.

Getting a college education was the first step. Years of indoctrination in public schools had prepared me for the classes; I knew I could handle the homework. Making new friends terrified me, but living with people I had already vetted via Facebook helped. I could handle living in a new city because I was ready to leave my hometown. The thought of only seeing my parents on a sporadic basis was difficult, but it’s not like we couldn’t call each other, and email, and videochat. And when it came time to graduate, well, I’d seen friends do it; I braced myself for how difficult it could be to find a roommate, to find an apartment, to be able to afford an apartment, to find jobs to apply for whose descriptions didn’t sound completely awful and like something I might like to spend my life doing. Everybody told me about the importance of internships and a good resume, GPA and references.

But no one really told me about the shift from the academic life to the ‘real world’. Graduating and getting a job didn’t suddenly change my perspective on life, the universe, and everything. My life isn’t that different – I have the same friends, I drink the same alcohol, I go to the same places, I can only make the same dozen basic dishes.

I always knew that waking up five days a week at 7am was going to be a bit of a problem. I’ll own that I still hit snooze four times before rolling out of bed 10 minutes before I need to leave for work. (I shower, pick out my outfit, and pack my lunch the night before.) I still struggle to go to bed before midnight. But I make it work.

The thing I wasn’t prepared for wasn’t finding the balance of business and casual to get ‘business casual’. It wasn’t the commute, or using a Windows computer, or drinking coffee regularly.

The thing I wasn’t prepared for is how mundane my day can be. The rote tasks, the vaguely uncomfortable swivel chair, the lack of natural light – I never knew how much I liked natural light until I was put in a walled-off office space, with my dual-monitors and fluorescent lights as my only sources of illumination.

In preparation for my 90-day evaluation, my coworker mentioned that my boss is considering the possibility that I’ll keep this job and work through library school and work here indefinitely. But I don’t think that’s what I want. This was a position with which I was familiar from my work-study experience and knew I could do well. I expressed interest in the field, knowing full well that in a year or two I’d want to leave to pursue a Master’s degree, potentially in the Library and Info realm. But it was never definite. And the more time I spend here, the more I’m sure that, even if I do end up with an MLIS, I don’t want to work in law again. I’ve seen the reference requests and they don’t pique my interest. To me, they aren’t something I think I would find fulfilling.

 

The other day I was told that my paid time off (PTO) accrual between now and the end of the year would be 6.5 days. The PTO at my office covers vacation, sick, and personal days. And it wasn’t until I realized I’d only have 6.5 days available for my use that I realized how badly I want to go home and visit. I didn’t realize how badly I wanted to go home until I figured out that I don’t know when the next time I’ll be able to is. I realized that I have to sacrifice going home for Christmas because, what with the way the calendar worked out this year, Christmas is the only day I get off. Most likely, I will go for longer than a year without seeing most of my extended family.

I realize that I kind of want to quit. Even though I’ve only surrendered a few times in my life I start thinking ‘is this even worth it?’. And I know it is. I know this job I don’t like is paying for that apartment I really do. This job is the thing that’s keeping me surrounded by friends instead of living at home with my parents (where, let’s be honest, I’d be way more miserable than I am now). And really, and I know this – not even deep down, but superficially! – my job isn’t bad. I like it.

I know that this job is a stop-gap. It’s giving me the time to decide what I want to pursue for my Master’s degree and will give me a bit of a financial cushion when I do take that plunge. It’s giving me time to write, paying me a better salary than I expected, getting me out of the apartment five days a week. So I need to suck it up. And I will. It’s just taking some adjustments.

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On Visiting Home

A few weeks ago I went home for the first time as an adult – you know, a real person who has graduated from college, signed a lease on an apartment, and holds down a full-time job to which one must commute.  It was the first time I traveled back to the Cleveland area that wasn’t just a school break or for a short visit while I spent the summer in DC. It was the first time I took an honest to God vacation from a job. And it was different. Here’s how:

When your dad pulls into the driveway of the house that you’ve spent the last 12 years of your life calling home – the house you went through puberty in, the house in which you introduced your parents to your first boyfriend, the bedroom that, for the first time, you got to decorate as completely your own, with your closet full of Beanie Babies and Molly, your American Girl Doll, and your high school cap and gown – you realize that you don’t necessarily think of it that way anymore, as home. The people you love, your family, still reside there, but somehow it’s not quite the same.

The inside is different, too. Everything feels like it’s been moved three inches to the left. You know that episode of Full House where DJ and Stephanie accidentally put a hole in the wall of Danny’s room and they move the furniture to cover it? I feel like Danny when he gets home and tries to toss his coat on the chair but it falls on the floor instead. That niggling feeling that something’s just not quite right. It’s the handles of the shower and how they turn in the opposite direction of the ones in your new apartment. It’s that all the doorknobs feel smaller; the toilet feels a little lower. The painting you did in 4th grade art that used to hang in the downstairs bathroom has been replaced by a concert poster from a show your dad and brother went to when you were away at school. It’s the free food and the well-stocked fridge with the balanced meals that you’re actually happy are balanced.

It’s the struggle between being so overwhelmingly happy to see your parents again, to know that they’re alive and there – ready to hug you at any time – to needing your space. You suddenly seem to realize – even though, let’s be honest, you’ve seen it coming for years – that your parents’ ideologies aren’t the exact same as yours; you hear comments you don’t remember your parents making before. You grew up thinking your parents were so liberal and super progressive and you’re starting to realize that they aren’t, necessarily. It’s not as though they’re suddenly ultra-conservative, it’s just that the hyper-liberal college you went to has maybe shaped your ideology more than your parents have. There’s the moment in the middle of the golf course where your brother almost makes you cry out of frustration because he doesn’t understand that rape culture is a thing you actually think and care about so he makes dumb comments and insulting jokes and says it’s okay because it’s ‘art’ and ‘comedy’. Slowly but surely, you start to recognize the excuses you’ve been making for him all these years, and somehow you still don’t abruptly stop. You do stop talking about politics with him.

And outside of your house you realize that you don’t really belong to these people anymore. At least, not in the way you used to. Your life isn’t ruled by the 6×1 mile patch of ground that make up your hometown. You’ve grown. You’ve lived in a big city, you’ve spent a few months abroad, your experiences and perspective aren’t nearly as limited as they were when you lived here full-time.

There aren’t really any contacts in your phone from your hometown that you feel comfortable calling up to hang out. (Because for some reason being back in your hometown makes you act like you’re in high school all over again, when you would call all of your friends to plan to see each other.) Or, if there are one or two you wouldn’t mind seeing again – they’re no longer spending time in your town. You try to process the crippling feeling that the next time you see them might be their wedding or your high school reunion. So instead of calling or texting everyone you used to be friends with, a long time ago (and not wanting to deal with the boy you used to be friends with and had a crush on but know will ignore you), you agree to hang out with your older brother and his friends. You let him goad you into it even though you could be staying home, watching Silver Linings Playbook with your parents. So you get in the car. You climb the stairs to the apartment complex you didn’t know existed until last summer, and play with the friendly dog, and beat your brother’s friend at Injustice and wonder where his wife is while you’re sipping on Diet Pepsi, getting contact high from the bowl they’re passing back and forth, and wondering, ‘when did this become my life?’. And when you’re brother wants to leave and says, ‘come to this party, my friends want to see you’ you shrug and say okay, because you kind of want to see them, too. But when you finally get there it’s nothing like you imagined – it’s not like the parties you’re used to. There’s a girl stumbling drunk between the six other people present. A guy you vaguely know industriously made a bong out of an apple. You abjectly realize you’re not having fun. You take the keys and go home alone, fervently hoping you remember which streets to take because you never did know this are quite as well as you could have.

By the time your dad has finished packing up the car to drive you the seven hours down to the place you’ve started to call home – the place where you surround yourself with friends that you think one day, maybe, you might consider family, to your own space that exists hundreds of miles away from your parent’s house – you realize you didn’t even accomplish anything on your ‘vacation’. A few days of shopping without having to pay for anything; a carload of furniture your parents weren’t using; some home-cooked meals; a lot of hugs and ‘I love you’s said between yourself and your parents. But does it really mean anything? In the four days you were home you never once went somewhere new, aside from that hole-in-the-wall Mexican place. You didn’t do anything special for your mom’s birthday or belated for Father’s Day. In the end, it was a chance to hug your parents, to answer the question of what your brother and his friends do when they hang out, but not much more than not having to get up early and go into the office for a few days.

As the car pulls away from the house, you realize you don’t miss it as much as you thought you might. The talk of turning your bedroom into a guest room stings a little, but you know you’ll always have somewhere to sleep; a place to return to. You feel bad for the clutter you left strewn over your bedroom floor even though you’ve done so nearly every time you’ve visited home. You feel a little worse than usual, though, because you don’t know when the next time you’ll return to might be.

When you arrive at your apartment, everything you felt at home is still there, flopping around inside you. But it’s fuzzier, more distant. You still miss your family, the house, the friends you left behind and grew apart from. Every once in a while you’ll idly think about what you could have done differently when you were growing up in that perfectly suburban town and decide it’s really not worth the energy, because you like where you are now. You’re trying to learn  to like who you are and find comfort in friends more often than you turn to your family. It’s a process. It’s strange and sometimes unsettling but at the end of the day when you’re tired and trying not to think anymore, the thought creeps in that maybe the feeling you can’t always identify is pride – you’re proud of yourself for doing what you always swore you’d do: you left. You’re not ‘stuck’, anyway. You have options. Maybe just remind yourself to take a breath and try to remember that every once in a while. You’ll appreciate it.

Things I Did: Graduate College

The past fortnight – the past month – has been so crazy I don’t even know where to start. Do I go back to the beginning of spring semester when I thought I had all the time in the world? Or maybe midterms when I started to freak out about my grades and finding a job and an apartment? Or maybe that gap where I worried no one would want to live with me? What about that short period I thought I would leave DC, all of my friends, and take a year-long fellowship in Detroit?

See? So much has happened.

The last month alone has been the most action-packed of my life and I’m not even being hyperbolic! But the thing that I find most strange about it all is that I wasn’t even all that stressed. I really think the saving grace here was that I honestly just didn’t have time to feel stressed. I knew I would be able to pass all my classes. Amanda graciously agreed to be my roommate. We only looked at three apartments before we found one that we could agree on. I applied to a job, was qualified for it, did well in the interview and was hired.

I just… May was insane. I worked part-time during finals. I moved out of my dorm and into my very first apartment. I rented a car, went to Ikea for the first time, bought a bed and a mattress, and transported them to my new home. I went to 9 of the 10 Daze parties. I introduced my brother to my friends, went to two graduation ceremonies – on of which was ON THE NATIONAL MALL.

But it was all over so quickly. Do you know how quickly ten days of parties pass you by? Very quickly. Especially when you spend a significant portion of your day sleeping/moving/trying to figure out what you can wear that will fit that night’s theme. It’s exhausting. In a really good way.

So on top of all the parties and the hectic moving the graduation thing actually happened. Despite some reservations, Kerry Washington was actually a kick-ass commencement speaker (and a fellow GW alum).

And then, because I am a dumb-dumb, I started work at my full-time job the day after commencement. The day after. At 8:30 am. I have to COMMUTE now. That’s so weird. I moved to Virginia and ended up getting a job basically on campus of my alma mater. So weird (not the late-90s Disney show). But I live four metro stops away so I really can’t complain. Like, at all.

So now I have a job. That I’m good at. In a law firm (in the library, but still). It’s weird. And kind of easy. And has absolutely no relation to that shiny new degree I just earned next door. But I get paid! When they decide to pay me on time I can afford my rent and food and clothes for said job and, I don’t care what you say, yes, I am going to put a hammock in my apartment because that’s just not really an acceptable piece of furniture outside of your early 20’s, so…

I’m happy, I think. It’s been awhile since I felt this way. No homework, no stress. Time to read books again, and watch tv, and just lounge about talking about dumb shit with my roommate and our friends. I joined the firm’s softball team. I play slow-pitch softball on the ellipse of the White House. Our game last night got paused because the Secret Service made us clear out. My apartment complex has a pool so I just bought a new bathing suit. Things are looking up.

So I guess my only question is, what’s next?

Hot Humid American Summer

I finished with classes, exams, my school year a month ago. As of May 7th at approximately 1:40pm I became a senior at the George Washington University. Let’s just give that a second to sink in, shall we? A senior. A fourth year student at a university of higher education. I’m so close to graduating I’m already cringing. I’m not ready to leave yet. It took going abroad and coming back to find my place here, school. Don’t make me leave so soon!

Okay, sorry. It’s just freaking me out a bit. I know that I’ve got a whole year left in this great place with these wonderful people, but damn. That’ll just go by in the blink of an eye, won’t it? So, in the meantime, I’m going to work on focusing on the present. I’m pretty terrible at that, if you’ve read any of my posts, like, ever. I tend to plan for months, years in the future, not the now. Oh, well. Instead of prematurely freaking out about graduation and caps and gowns and employment, I’m trying to think of what I’ll be doing this summer to keep me grounded. I’ve made a list, you see.

First off, I’ve just started working on a new story. No, I haven’t finished any of my old ones yet. I know, I know, I’m working on it. (Kind of.) But for the first time, ever, I have an outline, plot, characters, the whole shebang. If you couldn’t tell, I’m kind of proud of myself. I’m going to try and write a thousand words a day. I don’t think I’ll live up to that goal, but I’m going to try.

Next up, I plan on reading a lot this summer. A lot a lot. I’m still working at the law library, so I’ve got tons of time to kill. Here’s my go-to list:

  • Brave New World (I’ve only got about fifty pages left.)
  • Ultimate Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (All books combined into one nice little Kindle package. I’m a little over half-way through.)
  • The Bell Jar
  • On the Road
  • Is Everyone Hanging out Without Me?
  • One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest
  • Jane Eyre
  • Franny & Zooey

I also have a lot of shows to watch. Aside from recapping Newsroom over at Off Color TV I’ve got a lot on my lists. After catching up on the rest of this season’s shows (Once Upon a Time, HIMYM, Hart of Dixie, Castle, 30 Rock and Fringe) I plan on watching these for the first time:

  • Dance Academy. I’ve got about 10 episodes left in  this addictive little Australian show about teenagers at a ballet school.
  • Arrested Development
  • Friday Night Lights
  • Battle Star Galactica
  • Daria
  • Awkward.

Keep in mind I’ll be in the city all summer, so I can also distract myself with free concerts at the Kennedy Center and the Sculpture Garden. The pool is open on the auxiliary campus and is free for students. Almost all of my friends are here for some/all of the summer so I’m sure I’ll have a full schedule. At least I hope so.

Since I don’t post here on the reg (I’m going to try and amend that, no promises), you can follow me on Twitter @MollytheGhost where I am almost always available to talk about TV, my boredom, and other weird stuff. I also got a Tumblr recently, so you can see a ton of reblogged crap over there. (Please follow me? I don’t know how to cultivate tumblr followers, so that would be swell!)

Feel free to leave me with tons of suggestions as to what books/shows/movies I should try out next. I’d love to hear it.

In Which I Apologize Profusely for having been Absent from the Blogosphere

Seeing as how I have once again been MIA from my blog for awhile, I thought I’d ease us all back into things. Slow and steady, no? So we’re just going to play catch-up. Last I posted, I wrote about my time in Dublin. Wow, that seems like forever ago. So much has happened over the last two and a half months (has it really been that long since I’ve posted? I’m the worst), so here’s the quick and dirty:

December:

  • I returned to the States! I finished my time abroad and flew into DC to hang out with my friends at GW during their reading week. This was really important to me since a lot of my friends are now abroad. Visiting in December was my only real opportunity to see them before our Senior Year started. Waiting that long to see all of my wonderful friends just wasn’t going to cut it so I did what made sense – I came to DC for a visit. We watched the requisite winter movie Love, Actually. We watched political debates. We ate peppermint bark. We went out to dinner. We reconnected.
  • I visited family. No matter what, winter break is a time for me to visit family. I managed to squeeze trips to both Michigan and New York out of my four week break. I hung out with my cousins, ate amazing Polish food, hit the outlet malls, cleaned out my grandparent’s kitchen, drove through Allegheny National Forest. It was a grand ole time.

January:

  • I watched my beloved Alabama Crimson Tide trounce LSU. I made caramel corn during half time and wore my Roll Tide t-shirt.
  • I moved back to DC and into my new dorm. I’ve been really busy with school and work, and spending time with my friends (none of whom live in the same building as myself) but I like my room well enough. It’s tiny and doesn’t have enough storage space, but it’ll do for a home away from home until May.
  • I celebrated a birthday! It was really low-key, but I was with my friends, and that’s all that matters. We ate chocolate-covered cheesecake. Need I say more?
  • Band started up again! I basically spend all of my time with them, bouncing between Symphonic Band and pep band rehearsals and basketball games, but it’s always fun. We have traditions and inside jokes and a lot of love for each other. It’s wonderful.

February:

  • Celebrated the first annual Alan Rickmas. What is that, you may ask? The Sunday before Alan Rickman’s birthday you get together with a bunch of your friends and day-drink while watching Alan Rickman movies. This year we watched Nobel Son, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, Galaxy Quest, Love Actually, and Die Hard. It’s a grand day that we hope to replicate for years to come.

Can’t you see I’ve been super busy? I hope y’all understand why I haven’t been posting. I’m also taking a creative writing class this semester which is taking a lot of writing focus. So is my recapping duty over at Off Color TV for Parks and Recreations. You can find my posts here.

In my free time (when not hanging out with friends, obviously) I’ve been trying to catch up on all of my TV watching. I’m floundering to keep up with my regular shows week-to-week, but I’ve managed to watch all of Party Down (loved it so much; can’t wait for the movie), and have worked my way into season 4 of Supernatural (enjoying it a lot).

Trying to spend more time reading because I feel like I’ve been neglecting my books. I’m halfway through the third Hitchhiker’s Guide book. I finished Downtown Owl, finally. I just purchased Bossypants and The Hunger Games to reread over spring break and Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? because I love and admire Mindy Kaling.

Nothing too exciting is in my near future. I’ve been applying to summer jobs/internships so that I can (hopefully) stay in DC over the summer. I’m impatiently awaiting March 23rd because I just want to see the Hunger Games already and… Guys. I have a lot of feelings about this book. Expect a post about it in the near future. Suffice it to say for the time being that I’m in need of a good cry and the dam’s going to break when I see that movie. I’ve already warned the friends I’m going to see it with (midnight premiere, what-what?). I plan on packing lots and lots of tissues.

Have a listen to one of my favorite songs from Brighton, which I’ve been told is finally starting to be popular Stateside. Just remember, I heard/liked it first.

I don’t go to College, I go to Uni

Once again, I’ve neglected my blog. Which makes me, to quote Liz Lemon, the worst. I don’t have anything topical to discuss or rant about or write a poignant essay about. For now I’m just going to play catch-up and ramble about what I’ve been up to lately.

But, hey, remember when I was all “I’ll never have the perfect college experience?” and went on whinging about that for an entire blog post? Yeah, well I apologize and am currently retracting that statement. Kind of.

I’m 3000 miles from home and I found what I was looking for. When I was but an ideological high-schooler, dreaming of the perfect college  I pictured sprawling rural campus. I ended up in the middle of a city. Whatever, you know all this. But do you know how perfect the Sussex Uni campus is? It’s exactly what 16-year old me envisaged. Green everywhere, enclosed so you still have a campus feel but surrounded by bountiful (and beautiful) parkland. 20,000 students, but only about a third (all first years) live on campus.  The classrooms are mostly lecture halls, but instead of individual desks, they’re elongated and look like this picture, which I absolutely adore. And, AND, there are two pubs on campus. Yes, two. So close, so convenient, so deliciously cheap. So, no, I’m still not getting to tailgate, or go to football games, or whatever, but I actually feel like a college student. Going to lecture, taking notes in a notebook (not that many students use laptops in class), writing essays, and going out on the weekends! Unlike the States, where I can’t go out to bars or clubs and drink, I can do that here. I can, and do, go on pub crawls. I can now say that I’ve been to a house party. I’m meeting people! I’m getting drunk and attempting to navigate the bus system! And it’s legal! For the first time ever, I’ve been to a bar and had a cute guy buy me a drink (my tiny triumph of last weekend). So, despite the fact that I’m really looking forward to getting back to GW, I’m absolutely loving my time here. I’m really finding myself, getting comfortable in my own skin and just having fun.

Other little things:

  • I saw a fox! On campus! On the way to a bar! Everything about those statements makes me giddy. Foxes are my favorite animal. The fact that they run around campus just thrills me to death. It was a fun little surprise passing one on the way to Falmer Bar last weekend.
  • I got a job! Okay, to be technical, an unpaid position. But I’m writing recaps/reviews of one of my absolute favorite shows, Parks & Recreation. I adore both the show and the site that I’m writing them for, Off Color TV. It’s a really fun site to troll. I’m now a frequent reader and commenter. Everyone should definitely go and check it out. For those of you who know how much I love tv and recaps, you should know that I’m over the moon about doing this. Unfortunately there wasn’t a new Parks & Rec last night, but there will be a nice new post (by me) next Friday. I urge you all to read and comment on it.
  • This one’s a little old, but I organized a beer pong tournament on campus a couple weeks ago. I imagined we’d have ten people show up, but around 30 exchange students packed into one of the dorm kitchens and hung around for a few hours. Not too shabby.
  • I’m taking an archery class! That puts me one step closer to becoming Katniss Everdeen. 
  • You might’ve noticed that I posted a recap of the season premiere of “The League”. I’ll be doing that weekly. They may be a little late, but they’ll get posted, regardless. It’s just a little something I’m doing to contribute to my family’s fantasy football newsletter. Whatever keeps me writing.
  • I’ve been attempting (and mostly succeeding) to keep up with US television shows. Despite the fact that I have to watch them next-day (and avoid spoilers on Twitter) it’s been working out. I figure it’s acceptable since I’m still a social creature and not a complete recluse. Right?

Normal: What even is that?

I don’t think I’ll ever have the “quintessential college experience” whatever that may be. It just won’t happen. I’ve had the startling realization and have come to terms with it. It’s fine. Kind of. Sort of. Maybe?

I’m into my third year of college. I am now a junior in college. What even is that? When did this happen? Who decided I was old enough / mature enough / smart enough to get this far? I want to go back to elementary school with its coloring, its book reports, its multiplication tables. Instead I have to endure digital media projects, analytical essays, and statistics. Not fair.

But I have noticed, of late, that my college experience isn’t on par with those of most of my friends from home. Is it because I went out of state? I went to a private school? I’m on an urban campus? I didn’t rush? I don’t know if I’ll ever be certain, but I know some of what I’m missing.

I’ll never go to a college football game because my school doesn’t have a football team. I won’t get to tailgate outside our stadium, because we don’t have a stadium, let alone cars. I’ll never get to enjoy porch drinking, because there are no houses on campus, excluding the tiny town-houses that have no porches – just stoops. I’ll never attend, at least as an undergrad, a university with a male population of which the majority are heterosexual. (Yes, I’m including my study abroad university in that. That’s one thing they don’t advertise that in the guidebooks, let me tell you.)

But it’s more than that. It’s also the fact that I didn’t get to drink PBR or play beer pong until I was hanging out with my brother over summer vacation. Whether that’s because there doesn’t seem to be room for beer pong at school or kids tend to drink liquor, I can’t be certain. I never shotgunned a beer until hanging out with my summer coworkers because, on the off chance we have beer at school, it sure as hell doesn’t come from a can.

What else am I missing out on? Is it because of where I go, or because of who I am and whom I chose to hang out with? If you have any insights, send ’em my way.

Not that I don’t enjoy my college experience; I do. For the most part. GW has its positives: the DC location, dorms down the street from the White House, school-year internships on the Hill, awesome authors and press secretaries and politicians that speak on campus. It can be wonderful, of course, it just doesn’t strike me as conventional, typical, or dare I say it, normal. Maybe when I get back to GW I’ll found a beer-pong league and sponsored flip-cup tournaments? At the very least I’ll take a road trip to Athens, Ohio to enjoy the Spring festivals. I’ll take normalcy, whatever that may be, wherever I can get it.