Scratching a four-year itch
If my time living in Colorado can be likened to college, I’m graduating this week. This time a three-kegger is not in order.I made the move to Colorado four years ago, and I’m feeling a little nostalgic, mixed with expectant.I bet that last part made by mom’s heart skip a beat.I’m not sure why this four-year anniversary as opposed to a five-year milemarker is cause for celebration and contemplation.Much like graduation.
If I were turning my tassel, I’d receive cash, an expensive organizer and a bunch of ding letters from companies where I’d like to work. After this four-year stint, I’m paying money to people I don’t know, use a free wall calendar to organize my stuff, and haven’t written a cover letter in years.Living in the Rocky Mountains threw me a steep learning curve.In college, I studied journalism and art and design, not exactly comprehending how those subjects would play out in real life. In every job I held after graduating, I utilized my college education. But that didn’t necessarily mean everything was perfect. Realizing there had to be more to life than work and pursuing the American Dream, I moved to Colorado.I haven’t been the same since.In the last four years, I’ve concentrated on learning about myself and the world outside of Indiana and corporate America.I found out there’s more than corn in Indiana.Since my big move I’ve learned so much about people, places and things, I almost feel like I’m taking a class. I’ve met people who have swum raging rivers after flipping in a raft, biked up and down thousands of feet in elevation and climbed the world’s tallest mountains.
Heck, the word elevation wasn’t even part of my vernacular before relocating here. I also never camped in the middle of the desert, used the word “limpy” to describe a deflated flotation device or ate fish tacos.Apparently I needed to get out a little.OK, a lot.And I’m glad I did. But it seems at four years in, I’m at a little bit of a crossroads. I wonder if four years is the standard time for a person to really grasp a concept and base their life around it, like, say college.My major would be Mountain Play.But I think I need to be on the six-year plan. And I’d probably pursue a master’s. Maybe even a Ph.D.Now that my initial fear of leaving home and living outside of what I considered normal practices, I feel like I could do about anything. Except maybe learn to roll in a kayak.
Forget the band Panic! At the Disco. That was Panic! At the Glenwood Springs Community Center pool.Ahhh, the things we do for love.After fours, I’m itching. And I’m not talking about the mystery bites on my leg from tubing Sunday.I haven’t quite figured out what it is I want to do or where I should do it. Whether people like it or not, writing will certainly be a part of my future. But, unlike college, I don’t have to worry about my parents cutting me off if I fail the tests.I have paying for my mistakes down to a science.April E. Clark has yet to hike to the summit of Mount Sopris, and won’t be satisfied until she does. She can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org and 945-8515, ext. 16601.
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