Sometimes I think about my life in 15 years; I transport myself to my future house with my future family. The nights in which I'll tell college stories to my kids... and they'll just imagine them as tall tales, distant happenings of decades ago. That's how I think of my parents' college experience. It is SO hard to imagine them in a similar position as I am right now: going to class, living in dorms, going out on the weekends. I struggle to think of their early lives as real, seeing as I wasn't born, conceived, or even thought of at that point. Not to imply that the world revolves around me, of course. But my perspective is limited by the length of my existence. And now I'm the college student. And I'm the one creating the stories to be told years down the line. Sometimes I really do get into an entirely different perspective, and imagine the present as the past. It's surreal. As much as time flies by, it also kind of stands still in the high school and college days. Our phases of life are changing every four years, and we haven't entered that end-all, be-all, "real world" stage. I cannot really visualize myself anywhere but here. All I can do is imagine how it might be 5 years, 10 years, 2 decades from now.
When I think about all of that, I just want to fervently record every single experience I have. I'm afraid of forgetting everything wonderful, funny, devastating, exciting about my Vassar years. I could already fill a book with my memories.
But I also feel the pressure to have these incredible experiences. Am I doing enough? Am I sufficiently involved? Will I have enough to tell, or will my kids stop me halfway through and tell me how boring I am? My parents have had such amazing lives; they have had so many unique and enriching experiences, and I hope beyond anything that I can look back from the suburbs one day with my little tribe of 3 or 4 and think "Damn, I had a good time."