I am not old by any human definition.  At 22 years of age, it is likely that there are three more quarters left in the game.  Maybe no overtime, but plenty of play.  

These days I feel old.  During my freshman year in college I lived in the dorms with, of course, another freshman.  In the intervening two years I lived with various people, none of them students.  Now I live with a freshman again.  It is amazing how things change.  I know that my existence now is much more sedate than it was three years ago, and yet I find myself wondering what on earth is this creature doing?

When I was a freshman (in Finance), I played Xbox a lot, I read a fair bit of literature, I worked a lot, and I rode my bicycle through three feet of water during a glorious winter storm before getting dumped off by a submerged ditch and getting a terrible cold.  It was great.  

Now, a senior in Mechanical Engineering, I try to go to bed by eleven o'clock, not much later.  My friend and roommate, John, will be up with a textbook until 2 am.  I admire that he studies so.  If I did that I would get better grades, for sure.  I would also get tired, get sick, and get unhappy pretty fast.  I judge that it isn't worth the trade.  John does not yet know better, and only a few semesters of being "that guy", you know, the one that ruins everybody's curve, will teach him.

Or maybe not, but he'll move out anyway, and I will get more sleep.

 

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