As I go through old college notes from a few semesters ago, I encounter a strange nostalgia for everything. Wading through stacks upon stacks of papers I threw into my closet to sort through later has shown me that I really have enjoyed my time at university, whether at Baylor, UTSA, or UT. I recall one of the thought mechanisms I used while at Baylor to make myself miserable was to compare everything to senior year of high school, and the nostalgia I felt towards that year. Yet as I reminisce on my experience at each of these institutions, I can’t help but miss being there. Certain routines and events became etched in my memory, and I would love to relive them. (On a side note, as a kid I imagined that one of the main features of heaven was the ability to relive every instant in your life as if you were there. You can also relive other people’s lives, and you can do so without knowing that you’re already in heaven. So, you essentially live someone’s life, making the same decisions they made under their logic. Of course, this caused me to question if I was already dead living someone else’s life or my own.) Most of these memories consist of me falling asleep in lecture, taking naps in my shitty dorm, going to the library to escape everything (because libraries are the best places on Earth ever), and walks between classes (this one’s especially prominent). It’s nice to realize that I have a new standard with which I can compare my experiences. Instead of constantly referring to the past to validate my experience, I’ll just shut up and enjoy.