I Hope the Grass is Greener on the Other Side

It’s sort of funny how you can see so much and do so much and still have nothing to say.

I’m living in the middle of the craziest spring break party destination, in the best party hotel in Cancun, and yet I’m disassociated from it all.


I’m not one of the entitled rich kids here testing the limits of their liver or experimenting with the drugs offered to them on the beach.

I haven’t lost my wallet at the club and had to yell and pound on my hotel room door hoping my roommate will wake up and let me in at 3 o’clock in the morning.

And yet, here I am. Experiencing all of this. I see it daily.

From the girl sitting in a wheelchair with a broken foot and missing tooth who cannot remember exactly what happened to the guy passed out in the lobby because his friends left him behind and didn’t leave him a key to their room.

While their friends are passed out in a drunken stupor behind the door they are banging on, I am the person down the hall being woken up by the noise.

I am over the noise, the drugs, the bullshit. Am I getting old?

Maybe I am forgetting my crazy party stories from college; or maybe college has gotten a little more crazy since I’ve been there. Maybe the grass is greener on the other side, and perhaps I’m the one missing out.



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