I open my eyes to another day and see the sunshine streaming through my window, warming my face. My alarm woke me up, and I instantly think that I don’t want to go to class, but deep down I know how lucky I am to take classes in a subject I love at a university that feels like a second home. I begrudgingly leave my warm cocoon of a bed to start my day. I am alive. 

I am greeted by my cats waiting outside the door, and Kit, the youngest, hops excitedly into my arms, while Penney, the oldest, runs ahead of me to the living room, looking over her shoulder and meowing at me to tell me to hurry up. I sit on the couch and allow them both to snuggle me half to death, and I take a few minutes just to breathe, wake up and feel their soft fur while their purrs rumble through me. A few moments later, my girlfriend, Christa, joins us all on the couch to get morning cuddles from the three of us. We have a slow start to our day, and we talk about plans and things we’re excited for. I am alive. 

We get ready for the day, and then we’re off to class. Today, we carpool, and I’m in charge of the music, so I play upbeat songs to set the tone for the day. I sing and dance, grabbing Christa’s hand to make her dance along. I do all the dance moves that I know make her laugh, just because I love to hear her laugh. I enjoy the swirls of pink and purple in the morning sky and the chill of the early morning. I am alive. 

We get to school. She goes to her class, and I go to sit and do homework while she’s gone. We meet up after her class, and we chat about how class was and all that we have to do today. Later, I go to my class, and though I don’t say much, I’m fascinated by the brilliant minds surrounding me. Everyone seems to have a different perspective on what we’re reading, and I find myself immersed, not realizing when class ends, almost wishing we had more time to hear everyone’s thoughts. I am so excited to learn, from my professors, my classmates and from the world around me. I am alive. 

After class is over, it’s time for work at the local library, and it’s nice outside, so I decide to walk. Fall has begun, so the air is slightly chilly, and the leaves have begun to change colors. They fall to the ground in slow-motion as I make my commute. I pass beautiful old houses with so much character, each one distinct from the rest in its own special way. I see the cars driving by and feel the breeze in my hair, the sunshine on my face, the leaves crunching under my shoes. I breathe in the cool air and take in the simple beauty of this autumn day. I am alive. 

I make it to work early, and I take the time to sit with my lovely coworkers. We sit and catch up at the children’s desk, stopping every so often to greet the kids coming in with their parents. I shelve books, help prepare supplies for the upcoming craft or event, help kids find books and answer any questions that their curious little minds can come up with. They play and make friends, and it’s refreshing to see such innocence, kindness and purity. Laughter and little shrieks of delight can be heard, and I smile when I hear some of the pretend scenarios they come up with. Simple happiness surrounds me, and it’s infectious. I am alive. 

When work is over, I walk back to campus, and I wind up at the Student Publications Building, affectionately nicknamed Pubs. It’s time for our twice-weekly staff meeting for the newspaper, and I’m excited, not only to hear how everyone’s assignments are going, but also just to be in the presence of some of my closest friends. Before the meeting, we talk about anything and everything, and I’ve never felt this comfortable among a group of friends in my life. We spend as little time as possible on the actual topic of our meeting, and then the room dissolves into laughter and chatter once again. I feel known, and seen, and loved. I am alive. 

I meet back up with Christa, and we head home. We talk about our days on the drive back, sharing every tiny detail. We’re once again greeted by the cats, who have missed us during our long day away from the house, so they’re extra snuggly – that is, until they go crazy with hyperactivity, which is always funny to watch. We cook up something good for dinner, and we sit together and watch a short show while we eat. We talk as we do homework, telling each other tidbits of information from our classes. It’s peaceful and quiet. I am alive. 

I call my family, our nightly routine since the first night I ever stayed at college three-and-a-half years ago, and we talk about our days. My parents tell me about work and their coworkers, and my brother has a crazy story from his friend group. I’m filled in on how my grandparents are doing, and I ask that they tell them hi from me, and while they’re at it, they should throw in some pets for my dog, who I miss horribly. I look forward to the next time I can go home to see everyone and hear about how their lives have been since I last saw them. It’s not often that I get the chance to travel back to Mississippi, especially with my busy schedule these days, but it always makes my day to get to be back in my childhood home, surrounded by those I love. I tell my family goodnight, and I smile, thinking about how silly they all are. I am alive. 

When we’ve done enough homework to make us feel like zombies, we decide to hit the hay, so we get ready for bed. I get into snuggly pajamas and then do the nightly check of the house before it’s time to go to bed. I tell the cats goodnight and end the day the way it began: curled up under the blankets, feeling safe and warm. As I drift off to sleep, I am tired but fulfilled, and I’m ready to do it all again tomorrow. I am alive. 

It’s easy to get lost in the seeming monotony of everyday life, and I find myself too often falling into this tendency. However, as the end of my undergraduate career quickly approaches, I have stopped wishing the days away and have started desperately hoping that time will somehow slow down. I feel like I’m holding on as hard as I can, only to watch the days fly by, especially when life gets overwhelmingly busy. I’m getting closer and closer to a scary end and an even more terrifying beginning. I’m suddenly finding out that life is entirely too short. 

The way I’ve found to combat this fear of missing the small moments is to try my best to slow down, take it all in, and remind myself that I am here. I get to live this beautiful, crazy, wonderful life with my favorite people by my side. I get to enjoy the perfect complexity that is the world around us. I am alive. So are you, and what an amazing thing that is. You are alive! Remember that.