I love finals week.

During finals week, I can make two key lime pies because I actually have the time to do so.

During finals week, I can go to Broad Ripple on Tuesday night with some of the boys, where I try hookah and Turkish coffee for the first time and then proceed to eat very sloppy gyros while walking down uneven sidewalks (and no napkins).

During finals week, my boy can stay the night and cuddle in the morning.

During finals week, I can go out for Cinco de Mayo and try my first margarita – and be absolutely goofy afterwards.

However, one thing I don’t like about finals week is the fact that I spent hundreds of dollars on books and sold few of them back. I only gained $55 out of the ones I did sell, and then there was one book I told the guy I’d turn around and let him do whatever he wanted with it, just as long as he got rid of it. I hate textbooks.

And now, since I am done with finals, comes the worst part. I have to deconstruct this room I have made for myself, and watch some of my friends go. I will miss them. My walls are now bare and frightening. I want to keep my room. I’m tired of picking up and moving. I want a place of my own. I’m only going to be home for one week before I have to return to this city. I never really seem to leave.

I will enjoy the time I have though, and despite my summer already being somewhat mapped out for me (work-class-reading-knitting-writing-traveling), I think it will be good. Besides, it’s really the last one I’ve got. I’m technically a senior now – weird, eh?

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