Screw 17 again - can I be 12 again, please?
Jessica Trumbull
Issue date: 11/10/09 Section: Columns
It's a wonderful time to be a senior. The economy has gone to crap, though they say it's slowly and not-so-surely on the rise. Finding a job is incredibly difficult, if not impossible, let alone securing one; I'm reverting to looking for mere internships just in case all my time spent job searching falls flat on its face.
Everything seems scary, much scarier than it should be. Because Denison is such a bubble-world, I have no idea how to find an apartment or deal with a landlord or even find a roommate (eek, craigslist). I don't know anything about credit, let alone if I even have any. The first semester of my senior year is practically over, and in half a year I'll be walking out into the real world with nothing but a diploma clutched in my sweaty little hand.
Normally I'm motivated by this kind of stress, and I even respond positively to it, but this year is different. As a result of the heightened senior-year fear factor, I've noticed a slightly worrisome trend in my behavior: it appears that, on the cusp of becoming a grown-up, I'm gradually reverting back to my childhood.
When you look through my iTunes playlists, my desire to be back in blissfully-innocent third grade becomes even more evident. My playlist of 90s music consists of just under 600 songs, and when times get rough and I'm drowning in work, rather than beating the stress with something productive like cooking, cleaning or going for a run, I turn up my speakers as loud as they'll go and blast some Backstreet Boys or Britney Spears and dance it out.
A scan through the DVDs I brought with me from home this year is even more proof of this strange and perhaps disturbing phenomenon. Right up front in my DVD case is Robin Hood - not Men in Tights, but the Disney cartoon version - followed shortly by All Dogs Go To Heaven, a personal favorite. I've noticed that I've popped in one of these movies while doing homework more frequently this year than I ever have before.
Everything seems scary, much scarier than it should be. Because Denison is such a bubble-world, I have no idea how to find an apartment or deal with a landlord or even find a roommate (eek, craigslist). I don't know anything about credit, let alone if I even have any. The first semester of my senior year is practically over, and in half a year I'll be walking out into the real world with nothing but a diploma clutched in my sweaty little hand.
Normally I'm motivated by this kind of stress, and I even respond positively to it, but this year is different. As a result of the heightened senior-year fear factor, I've noticed a slightly worrisome trend in my behavior: it appears that, on the cusp of becoming a grown-up, I'm gradually reverting back to my childhood.
When you look through my iTunes playlists, my desire to be back in blissfully-innocent third grade becomes even more evident. My playlist of 90s music consists of just under 600 songs, and when times get rough and I'm drowning in work, rather than beating the stress with something productive like cooking, cleaning or going for a run, I turn up my speakers as loud as they'll go and blast some Backstreet Boys or Britney Spears and dance it out.
A scan through the DVDs I brought with me from home this year is even more proof of this strange and perhaps disturbing phenomenon. Right up front in my DVD case is Robin Hood - not Men in Tights, but the Disney cartoon version - followed shortly by All Dogs Go To Heaven, a personal favorite. I've noticed that I've popped in one of these movies while doing homework more frequently this year than I ever have before.
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