When I left my home to spend my birthday in a cabin in the middle of the woods, I vowed that the only way I’d get home was if I drove myself (and my grandparents) back down, utilizing the interstate for most of the drive home.

Four classes. I’m four classes away from graduating community college with my associate’s degree.

I’m roughly four classes away from graduating community college with my associate’s of science, which means I’m having to figure out what degree to commit to, and what university I ought to transfer to.

One late summer night, I was sprawled out on the living room floor like a bear rug at my grandparents’ farm in Minnesota, trying to cool off and wind down after a long, adventurous day.

At the time of me typing this on my phone, it is 8:27 AM on a Wednesday morning.