It won't take long for me to tell you who I am

I write from a Starbucks 0.5 miles from my next school visit, which is not for another 45 minutes. I'm worried about adjusting to my travel schedule considering how low-key this week has been. This morning I met with one girl who was practically dragged into my information session (for lack of better term) and looked like she experienced a panic attack each time she asked me a question. She said she wanted to visit, but she may have been too afraid to say otherwise. Seriously, no pressure. If anything working for admissions has made me more chill about recruiting. I mean, selling the school is a huge part of my job, but obviously I'm not going to pressure anyone who wants giant lecture halls and a booming metropolis. Spreading collegiate misery is not in my job description. No students for my second visit, which the receptionist told me a little too sympathetically. However, she compensated by very enthusiastically asking for our packet of information. I should have cried... maybe she would have given me candy. Why do I always think of these things too late?

At this time, I'd like to thank the provider of much of my road music, Keri. I've listened to nothing but the Avett Brothers for the past two days, and my life is infinitely better for it. I got to the point where I thought, "Okay, you've listened to this CD about eight times now... maybe you can start skipping over the songs you don't like as much" (not changing the CD... oh, no... just listening to an abbreviated version). However, I have yet to find a song that is skippable. (Screw you, spell check, skippable is now a word. What else would I say?) So thanks to Keri for my insane new addiction to the Avett Brothers, and thanks to the Avett Brothers for allowing me to belt out "Talk On Indolence" at least ten times a day.