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Almost nine months ago, I prepared myself for what I had only hoped would be a chance to have a whole new experience, free from all the anxieties, the depressions, the pressures, and the stresses of the last. I had hoped to prepare for a year of ease and laziness, and instead found one with what seemed at the time like an insurmountable hill to climb (in which, of course, the laziness was still included).
And yet, even when faced with this hill, I persevered as best as I could, trudging daily to my classes, seeing old friends, and maybe even making new ones. Even through all the notes, the physics projects, and the all-nighters, I gave it my all, and I’m still not quite sure if I’ve even made it yet. The entire ordeal had constantly felt like it was the longest time of my life.
But as I sit here, observing the decorations and knick-knacks placed about in my English classroom, while wrapped in the shroud of a now-familiar comfort in the form of Christmas lights, fresh coffee, and a hundred different memories from a hundred different people, I look back on what was no doubt the longest, most tiresome and monotonous nine months I’ve endured, and realize something which catches me by surprise—
That was really fast.