Well, I'm not going to say that people were right, at least not entirely. I really don't see myself collapsing into a fiery black hole of my own design. Not that black holes are fiery. But I haven't gone crazy, nor has sleep deprivation driven me to anything more than slight bouts of above-average crankiness. The commutes and the jobs, even the lack of days off, are just fine. It's a question of getting used to things, really, that matters.
I find myself forced to agree, though, that effectively annulling the last true summer before the Real World perhaps wasn't the best idea I've had in my life and, more unfortunately, it's one that I can't take back. It's one of those "Damn, why did I watch that movie? There's three hours of my life i'll never have again..." Except that, instead of three hours, it's a few months. Everyone is off, having adventures, having parties, seeing each other, deepening friendships, while I'm punching timecards and rewriting my resume.
It's probably just my perpetual grass-is-always-greener syndrome rearing its head.
Additionally, life in a cubicle makes me a little crazy, prone to strong, irrational, and ridiculous urges. A few days ago, the urge to watch Pretty Woman RIGHT THAT INSTANT. The next day--"Wow. I'm going to move to Fairbanks. As soon as possible." Today's was "What if I decided to be CRAZY for a day, making an ex's life extremely awkward for a moment, fabricating a story of my continued love for him or her?!" It was one of my classic fantastic Paula ideas, and sort of gripped me by the throat for a good fifteen minutes or so.
Time's just moving a little too quickly, I think.