Angst.

*This blog post was written when I studied abroad in Granada in 2009. Though it is certainly not up to the quality of the articles I currently write, I didn’t want to lose the humble beginnings of this blog (at the time called European Escapades). Bear this in mind, and check back, as I plan to write more informative posts with photographs about many of the places I visited while studying abroad.*

As the countdown until Spain ticks on, I get exponentially more excited. However, on the downside, each day that I sit at home with nothing exciting to do, I get exponentially more depressed. Today, for the second time in recent memory I completely broke down and cried for about 20 minutes. I was on the way home from the mall (as shopping by myself has become fairly routine this summer), and I was thinking about how much I miss my friends from school and about how bittersweet it will be to be in Spain this fall.

My friends from home will all be gone within the next week, 2 of them are gone already. I didn’t see my friends a whole lot this summer, which was hard for me. At school I’m constantly surrounded by people whether it be in class, at dance, at phi sig things, or even in my room with Kate. This summer though, I felt completely isolated. In the past 97 days (yes, I counted) 10 were spent out of town (Rochester, Pittsburgh, Long Island), 7 were spent babysitting for half of the day and 2 weeks were spent working evenings at a short-lived sales job. Because my friends worked during the day, have boyfriends, and other friends, occasionally at night I would see them or go to a party, but the majority of the remaining 66 days were mostly spent doing nothing. I’ve watched 3 entire TV series online, countless movies (thank god for instant Netflix), marathons on TV, numerous episodes of Gilmore Girls and too much Daisy of Love for my own good. I’ve been told to think of it as “relaxation,” but honestly, no one can relax for 97 days (66 spent mostly alone) and not go completely stir crazy.
After this uneventful, boring, unsatisfying summer, I have come to the realization that I will NEVER do that again. The few times I did hang out with my friends I had fun, but outside of those events, which were few and far between, I was bored (sometimes literally) to tears, and it was terrible. The whole time I could not stop thinking about how much of my time I was wasting. To be utterly cliché, life is short. If someone told me that I was going to die today, I would wish that I could have 4 more months to have fun and be with my family and friends and to do great things, and here I am just letting 4 months slip by as if I have all the time in the world.
The next 2 weekends will probably be the best of the summer, because I’m going to the Hamptons to visit Claire and other friends, and then the next weekend I’m going to Rochester to stay in my suite for a few days to see everyone from school. I hope the next 18 days fly by because I am SO much more than ready to get to Granada. But in the meantime, give me a call, because I’ll more than likely be sitting around, doing nothing.
Hasta luego…
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