“Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skin in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming “Wow! What a Ride!” ― Hunter S. Thompson

Spontaneous is not the first adjective that my friends would use to describe me. I toe the line between fun-loving and responsible; spontaneity falls outside of my comfort zone. I have known this about myself for a long time and I don’t think these attributes are necessarily bad, but this quote has been making its way back to me a lot this week.

Yesterday I woke up at 7AM and reworked my resume. Before, I had a plain, one-page resume, with Times New Roman size 10 font (it’s actually not difficult to read) which details a few work-related experiences from high school in addition to my college experience. Of course, I cut out most of my extracurricular activities (Princeton Premedical Society and Her Campus Princeton) for my abbreviated/creative resume. When I looked over my work-related experiences from tenth grade until now, I realized how much time (and free time) I dedicated to preparation for what comes next. As an eleventh grader, I was the social media campaign head for a new company. I spent my free time writing newsletter, tweeting, writing articles, conducting market research, and connecting the CEO with like-minded corporations. That’s strange. It was a great opportunity and I greatly enhanced my skill set, but the truth of the matter is that: I haven’t taken a summer off (entirely) since the summer after sixth grade and I think that’s incredibly unhealthy.

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“People cry, not because they’re weak. It’s because they’ve been strong for too long.” ― Johnny Depp

I turned twenty-one yesterday.

It didn’t dawn on me when I received a barrage of phone calls in the morning; it didn’t dawn on me when my parents, still-dressed in pajamas, sang “Happy Birthday” off-key in a falsetto that I can’t shake; it dawned on me when my siblings hooked their arms through mine in the backdrop of seagulls, the boardwalk, hagglers, and chatter. For a moment, all I thought was it has happened. I had crossed, seemingly, the purgatory that lies between girlhood and womanhood.

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