In the summer after my freshman year, I wanted nothing more than to wander around the house in my underwear and extra large t-shirt. Everyday, I’d sleep for no less than twelve hours and maybe, if I felt like it, I’d get dressed and go to a friend’s house just to sit around some more. My friends and I would then throw out suggestions on where to go, only to decide it was too hot outside and that sitting in an air conditioned room just felt right. Maybe tomorrow we’ll drive to the beach. Or next weekend. The beach wasn’t going anywhere, and we weren’t in a great hurry either.
Ah, that was the life. That was what summer vacation was all about: sitting and doing absolutely nothing until all hours of the night for three whole months.
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