College Years

          "Whew okay, I think I can do this,” a mutter escaped from my slightly chapped lips and contradiction surrounding my every thought, “nope, nope, no I can’t”.
          “Dear, you have to make a choice,” he weathered-face woman stated politely with a crescent shaped lips showing her beam of support.
This was a huge decision that will affect me for the rest of my life. How can I be expected to choose so quickly? I’ve never done this before! Maybe I should step back and look at my options one more time before I make this permanent I pondered.
         “Can you give me a minute ma’am?” the words flooding from my mouth in a nervous wreck.
         “Uh, sure, let me know when you’re ready”.
She was judging me, I could tell. I’m sure I’m not the only won to do this right? Everybody goes through things like this. I’m so indecisive it’s ridiculous.
         “I can’t do this! Why did I ever leave home?” I pouted out loud
         “Do you need any help?” a scrawny young man, who was most likely an upperclassman in college, asked with worry on his brow.
               “You just might! Can you help me here?” I questioned as I pointed to the counter.
         He looked down to the application in my hand, “Ah, I remember those days, upcoming freshman I assume?”
         “Maybe! I’m so uncertain if I can do this on my own…” my sentence faded into the distance and struggled to return, “I mean look at me, I’m a complete wreck.”
         “I don’t believe that, you’re just growing up.” He smiled with support just like the weathered mistress behind the counter.
         “You really think so?” I asked as he nodded, “Okay well,” I paused as I walked back to the counter, “I’d like a number 7 please”.