You can’t fall asleep because you’re so excited. After a summer of adventures, boys, and studying abroad (or more likely, Netflix and avoiding responsibility), you get to go back to college. Back to your sorority house. Back to your sisters. As you decide which costumes you’ll need for socials and gather up all of the crafts you made for your future little, you’re so happy that you have another year with the best people in the world.
HA! JK. Unfortunately for you, you decided to become an adult. You completed your courses. You walked across the stage. You got that diploma, joined the alumni group, and now? Now you’re sitting at work getting upset every time one of your still-undergrad sisters posts things about the new school year. Even though for four years you thought recruitment was hell, even though there was always that one sister who annoyed the shit out of you, and even though “dry week” is no longer a thing for you, you can’t help but think about all of the things you miss.
- Getting a hideous Bid Day shirt that you swear you’ll never wear, but somehow end up keeping for the rest of your life.
- Being completely exhausted during workshop and bad-mouthing your recruitment chair any chance you get.
- Because seriously, we know how to step, clap.
- Thinking it’s total anarchy that you can’t go out for two whole weeks.
- Going out anyways because you make your own rules.
- Arriving to recruitment hungover and looking like shit.
- Realizing why you’re not supposed to go out because smiling and dancing when you want to throw up is actual hell.
- Getting sent to standards because, whatever.
- Seeing recruitment from the other side for the first time and falling in love with your chapter.
- Seeing recruitment from the other side for the last time and falling in love with your chapter all over again.
- Having an excuse to buy a whole new wardrobe.
- And then harassing retail workers because the dress they tried to sell you is egg-shell, not white.
- Having an actual reason to wear makeup besides just an awkward happy hour date with some random from Hinge.
- And having sisters who were always down to contour your face, curl your hair, or give an honest option on your outfit.
- “Hungover” being a legitimate excuse for wearing sweatpants in society on a Wednesday.
- Never having to worry about having a social life because you never had a second alone.
- Sitting in the kitchen at two in the morning eating drunk food with sisters and laughing at the dumb shit you did that night.
- Oh yeah, remember that fully stocked kitchen?
- With the cereal dispensers?
- And how you now regret ever saying anything bad about meal plan because it might have actually been a gift from heaven.
- Don’t have the right shorts for philanthropy day? Check the other forty-seven closets in the house.
- Being extremely anxious to see who the legacies were.
- And social media stalking the shit out of them the first second you got.
- Making sure you had at least one sister in each class.
- Then staying up to have late night study sessions.
- And loving when those late night study sessions turned into late night baking, gossiping, drinking, crying, and cuddling sessions.
- Watching girls anxiously pick Bid Day buddies.
- And start the little hunt before the PNMs walk through the door.
- Then the bloodbath of actually getting that little.
- Crafting for Bid Day. Crafting for buddies. Crafting for reveal and “I” and g-littles and graduation and literally anything else that gives you an excuse to go to Michael’s.
- The rug on the floor of your T.V. room. Something about that rug…
- Acting like ritual is dumb, but tearing up every time anyways.
- Moving into the house with your best friend and fighting over who gets what bed.
- Watching your littles, friends, and sisters initiate their own littles, friends, and sisters.
- Complaining about recruitment but secretly loving it anyway.
- Never feeling alone because your sisters are always right next to you. Or down the hall from you. Or in the bed above you.
Ugh. Don’t you just hate this recruitment time of the year?.