Sophie Henry

For some reason, I’ve chosen this late in my college career to have a crisis about my major. My mantra to my family — and to myself — when asked about my major was that I don’t have to decide until the end of my sophomore year. Now, suddenly, it is the end of my sophomore year?

This means I have basically graduated. And that means I am basically an old woman. Since coming to this realization, many other things have started to add up. 

First of all, my hair is graying. I have always had a small patch of white hair on my left  temple, but now it has jumped over to my right side, too. And I am almost positive it is getting bigger. My friends insist it is just blonde, but I know it is another sign of my imminent demise. And I do kind of think it’s cool. Except that I also think my hairline might just be receding. A mole that is usually hidden by my hair has now become visible. And like the animal mole, I would like this one to burrow itself back underneath my hair — which, to continue the metaphor, should still be brown like dirt, not white like clouds.

My sleep schedule is also a hint at the rapid aging of my body. While my suitemates’ weekend nights are just beginning at 11 p.m. — that is the tailend of my bedtime. When I get off work at 8 pm, that is the conclusion of my day. After that, no more work will get done, and no more leaving my suite will occur. But, to compensate, I rise with the sun. I look forward to my quiet mornings, waiting at the dining hall doors two minutes before 8 a.m. to indulge in Greek yogurt and Yale Bakery granola with a potentially dangerous amount of cinnamon. When dinner rolls around, again I am waiting patiently at the doors. I finally understand the motivation behind the ‘early bird special.’

Recently, my talking points have begun to revolve around the weather. Crazy stuff, right? Like I come back from spring break and it is snowing? And I couldn’t even get an ounce of warmth at home, either? The weather really does affect my mood as I get older, and I apparently cannot help myself from talking about this to every person I interact with. I can’t wait until everyone catches up to me on this and all I’ll ever have to talk about is the weather. I actually think it is supposed to get up to 60 degrees today!

In all seriousness, age sneaks up on you before you know it. I am 17 in B.C. — before COVID-19 — years, but I am somehow turning 20 this weekend. People my age are getting jobs, living alone, even starting families. I can’t even figure out my on-campus housing for next year. 

I knew it was bad when, last week, I found myself sitting across from a first year in seminar and feeling an overpowering jealousy over how many bright college years they have left — that is, one more than me. So, whether you’re a prefrosh or about to graduate, enjoy your youth while you have it, because soon you too will be excited to shop for dishes.