This is a special place for me to get drunk and write about
my feelings. So, like, the same as every note I have saved in my phone. Think "Wine About It" but with less wine and more college.
Today’s topic
is the first day of classes, commonly referred to as FDOC. I'll be taking cheap vodka shots periodically while I sort out my feelings about going back to school.
8 p.m. First shot of the night. This has me feeling a little bit inspired. I am honestly pretty pumped that classes are starting back. I’m ready to get this year started
and learn stuff and whatever.
My FDOC was long, and I'm tired, but I think I'll enjoy most of my classes.
8:30 p.m. Shot number two, down the hatch. That burns. Just like the fact that I had homework to do tonight. Ha. I am already feeling this, y'all. 21 and a serious lightweight. Good. I've realized that I’m just glad my friends are back in town so I have people to hang out with. Chapel Hill has been a ghost town all summer.
I don’t think I’ve fully grasped the fact that I will have to do actual schoolwork. But I am excited for the new experiences to come. I'm just about as corny as I am tipsy.
Mood: 7/10
9 p.m. Third shot. I’m still on the wait list for my class
tomorrow and I am in fact beginning to panic. As soon as I typed the word "panic" I got more nervous. Panic is kind of a weird word. I am starting to feel like this pug.
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And I'm now way more tipsy (dare I say drunk?) than everyone in the room. Truly ashamed.
Mood: 4/10.
9:30 p.m. I cannot take another shot or I'll say something embarrassing in front of all of you — my peers and loyal readers. I am sipping on a mixed drink while I consider the future.
I would like to say that senior year is incredibly scary and that can get worse when you're drunk in your living room alone wearing a towel on your head. I would also like to say that taking shots and writing about your feelings is a great way to deal with the back-to-school blues.
This has been Swerve's first episode of Drink About It, sponsored by Smirnoff (not really) and my desire to avoid responsibility (actually).
