Seventy-Six Degrees and Counting

Hello, "blog".

It's a nice Sunday afternoon, and the weather is a mild 76°F. It's nice blogging weather -- rather, it's nice weather for pretty much anything. Going for a run, going to church, going grocery shopping -- not that I do any of those, but I'd imagine this would be acceptable weather for said activities.

However, what I am doing are my college applications, but sadly, no matter how nice the weather is, nothing eases the anxiety and discomfort that filling these forms for the future of my education causes me.

I imagine the feeling is not foreign to the majority -- if not the entirety -- of high school seniors. Of my peers -- which includes your peers -- because we are all peers of each other. It's a strange feeling knowing that I'll know where I'll be attending college for the next four years before the rest of America gets to vote on their president for the next four years. Our tomorrows sneaks up on us in that way.

Here it is, today. The future. Our future. It's a bit of an understatement to say that I'm nervous. The word "nervous" or "anxious" and "excited" doesn't even come close to capturing the rising turmoil I feel inside. I believe you and I -- we -- are or will be sharing the same feeling because of its universal nature. The nature of the uncertainty in our futures.

It's funny how weather forecasts work. We can put a man on the moon, a robot on Mars, even a satellite that will far outreach the gravitational pull of our sun, but we can't even rely on the accuracy of a three-day weather forecast. Between all of time and space, it's obvious as to which is easier to predict. It's hard to say where we're going, where we're heading, or even who we'll be. There's not much that I can say about tomorrow.

What I can say though is that I can't wait to see what the weather will be like tomorrow.

- Jeremy Aban