I woke up with urgency, like the clock was ticking eight times faster. There’s no waiting, my eyes shot straight up as I hopped out of bed with that childish excitement you feel only on those special days like Christmas.

Or in that case, the last day of sixth grade. 

My mom helped me curl my hair. I put on my navy blue ruffle tank top, floral capri palazzo pants and black sandals. I burst out the door, running to the car. The day began with cleaning. As 11 and 12 year olds, we were expected and required to wipe up all of the messes we created over the school year with a Clorox wipe and some brown paper towels. 

It was gloomy and humid that afternoon, with our backpacks on, carrying our paper graduation caps we made in our art “specials” class out on the soccer field, underestimating what was to come next.

 I tossed up my cap that read “You’re Going to be Something Extraordinary” in calligraphy scattered with roses, a reference to a quote from “Steven Universe.” 

Six years ago still feels so recent, the memory so fresh.

I get to relive that sensation I felt that 2018 day in May all over again. This time in a different field, surrounded by friends that I’ve made who would’ve been strangers back on that humid afternoon in 2018.

 I still don’t know if I’m ready, but time is very impatient.