The typical college student doesn’t remember most of their freshman year. This of course, held true for me, but not because I was blackout drunk-no no-because I repressed every second of that painfully awkward catastrophe.
But because I love you, dear reader, I have dug into the depths of my subconscious repression to compile this list, just for you.
A list of things I did my freshman year that I’m not proud of:
Watching 6 movies in a row with my suite mate including the SpongeBob SquarePants movie, all 3 Cheetah Girls, and Kangaroo Jack.
Eating cheez-it’s for dinner several nights a week for 3 months.
Yelling at my roommate for making too much noise with an empty can of Monster energy drink. More than once.
Spending my last $70 on an uneven trim and bad highlights.
Wearing a New York Nets hat 5 days a week because it made me sad to look at my hair.
Re-watching the entirety of Friday Night Lights in a week.
Crying because Tim Riggins isn’t real.
Financial accounting.
Thinking my phone was in a washing machine so I unplugged it, dropped my sopping wet bedding onto the ground, spilled soap everywhere, rummaged through it, and caused a slight flood. (phone was not there, in case you were wondering)
Not breaking up with my ex boyfriend sooner.
Standing in line for an hour to sign up for the gym, but never going because I was afraid of equipment and men with large muscles and being in public for more than 10 minutes and the gym.
Having a dream that I ate my shower flip-flops that disturbed me so deeply I had to throw them out and buy a new pair.
Having a job where I watched women’s field hockey for 4 hours in the pouring rain and snow while wearing an XL bright orange polo and directing people to the bathroom.
Letting my suite mate buy a $5 “tiger poster” knowing full well that it was just a 4’6″ photo of a tiger, but not having the heart to tell her.
Not giving my very attractive and deeply intelligent philosophy professor my number.
Making it blatantly obvious that I was in love with my moderately young, but very married philosophy professor.
Not making it clear enough that I absolutely adored my roommate.
Not studying for months and then studying for 96 hours straight while listening to instrumental Christmas carols in an attempt to stay festive.
Watching family feud every night, without fail.
Watching the light fade from Steve Harvey’s eyes.
Becoming invested in The Bachelor almost completely unironically.
Getting dumped, via text, the day before my birthday, during finals week.
Losing my appetite.
Losing myself.
Transferring schools.
Leaving the greatest roommate that has, and will ever live.
Not appreciating these moments until making this list.
Oh, and writing “Damn Daniel” on the outside of our door and leaving it there for over a month. Now that is just unforgivable.
Girl Seeking Peanut Butter 