College began and it was nothing but opportunity ahead of me. There was endless supplies of café food, green apparel, and cute boys. The café food got old fast, and the green and white apparel just kept filling my closet, but the cute boys just kept on getting cuter. My friends and I took full advantage of the many opportunities to go out and tailgate with these wonderful looking boys with vineyard vines apparel and dad bods. College was great! We would drink wine on Wednesdays, be very thirsty on Thursday’s, and the weekend was filled with trendy parties where people wore dresses and nice tops from Francesca’s, not camo and varsity jackets. The days got colder as tailgating season was coming to a close. The “cute boys” whom I once thought were the most charming boys I had ever meet, became cute, “BOYS”…. Boys. I began to wonder if their boating shoes have actually ever been on a boat. But, the Hunter boots came out, the Birkenstock sandals got boxed away, and in came reality.
Now, if any of you are familiar with reality, it tends to not be as pleasant as we may like. It likes to hit you like a CATA bus and a student trying to get free tuition. Well for me reality came when I went home for thanksgiving and my aunt told me I looked thick. Yes. Thick. Like a slab of THICK meat. See, I knew I had gained weight because my jeans were a little snug, but that is when you convert to leggings. Right? Well this could very well be from the countless Conrads, mennas, and Jimmy John’s I would get on my long walks home with my roommates but I would always tell myself, “It’s ok Gen, you danced it off! You deserve that Number one (and if Beyonce was on) the macaroni bites too.”
After the wonderful comment from my aunt referring to my figure as milkshake preference, in came two more things. Grades and Money. Money was low and my parents were not going to keep giving me money that they knew I was defiantly not spending on books, and my grades, while not terrible, were not where I needed them to be. So after my freshman year I got a job working 30 hours, studied in the library, and added music as my minor. If any of you are music majors you understand…. The roommates are not fans of your opera singing at 3am. College is not like Pitch Perfect, Animal House, or Legally Blonde FYI. Needless to say my social life was done, hecho, fini, finito. So today, I am not here to tell you that you should make an end to your social life, but just to know that I loved mine while it lasted, but then I had to get down to business. So let us take a moment of silence to appreciate all social life’s killed by reality…… Rest in Peace social life. Rest in Peace.