After spending last weekend prancing around Embassy Row and its surrounding area in Washington, I decided Georgetown is where I want to live when I reach real-world status.
Coffee? $3. The Jungle, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Anna Karenina, In Cold Blood, and a cocktail recipe book? $7. Coffee, fresh bagel, and orange juice? $4. Dream life.
Thus began my plight to find any job possible to land me in this euphoria permanently. I scoured over Craigslist, searched various firms, and was updating my LinkedIn profile when my roommates reminded me I can’t be hired yet because a) I’m about to leave the country, and b) I haven’t graduated.
But those are really just small details.
It’s kind of like When Harry Met Sally, minus the 80s haircuts and funny clothes: “When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”
It doesn’t always need to be a person, though. It could be a place or a thing, and the best part is if you truly love it, it won’t be gone until you decide to get rid of it.
So begins my anticipation for the years to come. I know I should enjoy where I am now since college only lasts so long, but it’s not unheard of for me to get ahead of myself.
My blog is better than your blog.