You dressed up for class, because that’s what you assumed you had to do to be a functioning member of society.
You were right. But the only problem is being a functioning member of society is looked down upon here.
An entire clique of seniors hated you for unknowingly making out (with extras) with a guy that one of them never actually dated, but somehow got obsessed with. Like, chill.
You foolishly signed up for 9am classes.
And sometimes you even went to them.
You lived with someone who would have been intimidated by you in high school, and got mildly freaked out when she watched you do your makeup and stole your favorite leggings.
You broke up with your high school boyfriend.
And had a new not-boyfriend the following weekend.
Your friends and you competed to see who could make out with the most boys in a month.
You got wasted on jungle juice the night before your first class, and trusted your RA to nurse you back to health when she called you out of the bathroom.
Your RA totally stabbed you in the back during your time of need and wrote you up instead.
You had no chill and showed up to a party at 10pm.
Showing up at random people’s houses because it looked like a party was happening seemed totally normal to you.
You drunkenly stole peanut butter and crackers from someone’s house, because you were starving, then told people you brought it from home when you got caught.
“HOW DO THEY KNOW WE’RE FRESHMAN?!”
Because you rolled up 25 floormates deep, asshole.
You wore your lanyard.
Okay, no you didn’t. But you knew a guy who did.
You had prom pictures sticky tacked to your cinderblock dorm room wall in an “artsy” formation that you changed up regularly.
You had a love/hate relationship with the dining hall.
You took comfort in knowing that every guy you hooked up with was either your age or older.
You NEVER skipped a mixer, because THIS IS THE BEST SORORITY EVER.
You always drunchied. Every. Single. Time.
Twin beds are your nemesis, even though you mastered the art of sleeping with another person in a twin.
You had two options: treck down four flights of stairs for a fresh pair of undies or bring two month’s worth of laundry home to your mother twice a semester.
You either gained ten pounds or went to the gym seven times a week to avoid gaining ten pounds…only to gain it next year.
You started your never having been drunk two days in a row. You ended your year never being sober two days in a row.
You secretly don’t want recruitment to come next year, because you like being the new girls.
You bought ever PR item offered, because you haven’t hooked up with enough guys for a solid t-shirt collection.
But on the flip side, you are SO. OBSESSED. with getting a little.
Like you’ve already bought presents.
An older boy fed you line after lines like “So when I was telling my mom about you…” and “I’m not like other guys,” and you fell for every single one.
You couldn’t decide whether you were proud or ashamed of your first adult sleepover.
You learned the meaning of “all-nighter” for the first time.
It took you way longer than you’d ever admit to learn the names of every girl in your sorority.
You cried once or twice about missing home.
But mostly, you knew you’d just taken one giant leap toward creating a new home. And that’s pretty great.
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