Part I I didn't want to study abroad. I didn’t see the point. I was one of those weird people who liked school, but I didn't see why I would leave the country to like it. Even in a foreign land, I'd still be beholden to deadlines and classrooms and books and professors.
I'd met with my English advisor earlier that week and he told me what I already knew (and gave me a great argument to support what I really wanted): I was an English class shy of the necessary courses to be able to graduate. All I had left were a bunch of electives. It seemed I loved English so much I'd taken extra courses just because. But really, it was easy and I wanted to dedicate more brainpower to my next hairstyle or tomorrow’s outfit or my latest crush or getting over a hangover. The advisor was impressed by my dedication to the written word. He thought he’d found a kindred spirit.
"You know what I would do?" he asked excitedly.
I knew the question was rhetorical, but I responded anyway. "What's that?" I responded, matching his enthusiasm.
“Study abroad in the Fall."
I'd never given it any thought. And I wasn’t about to start now. Leave D.C.? Why would anyone do that?
He must have sensed my hesitation because he followed up with, "You could bullshit here or go overseas and do it. It'd be much more fun over there."
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