My whole life has been a series of reaching average childhood goals like walking, talking, learning to ride a bike, not dying of pneumonia or embarrassment. I’ve been stuck reaching these mundane milestones, and apparently I got bored enough to stick a few extras in there.
I leave for college in about ten months. My friends say that this is the fastest ten months of my life. Based on the schools I’m looking at, in a year I could still be in good ole Ohio, New York, Massachusetts, or Florida. In a year I’ll be learning how to be a doctor, I’ll be doing something that could very well change the world. But I can’t focus on it. I’m sitting at this red light right now. And not in a bad way.
I’m sitting at this red light, and I’m basking in the warm sunlight. I’m perfectly happy to sit at this light for the next ten months. I just have to remember that, when the time comes, I have to take my foot off the break and slam the gas. It’s going to be a blurry haze of college applications, and test scores, and scholarships essays for the next few months.
I’m doing this whole college thing the way I learned to ride a bike: wildly excited and absolutely terrified. I couldn’t be happier.