Wearing last night’s makeup to early morning classes. TSM.

Refusing to use anything but your Greek letters for your lock screen. TSM.

Silently feeling superior, because you got the big everyone wanted. TSM.

Bragging about your sorority’s accomplishments even though you didn’t show up to a single event sober. TSM.

Making a quilt out of all your shack shirts. TSM.

Having a love/hate relationship with senior year. TSM.

Having to the be the one to remind your most recent shack that, “It’s just sex. No feelings.” TSM.

Formal dress shopping by day. Formal date shopping by night. TSM.

Having to excuse over half of your new member pledge class from weekend homecoming events, because they have to go home to crown their high schools’ new Homecoming Queens. TSM.

Being named Kennedy and having a big named Reagan. TSM.

Yelling “Big!” in a sorority house is like yelling “Mom!” in a grocery store. TSM.

Knowing more about US history from reading all the American Girl doll books than from your history lecture. TSM.

If tweeting it would send you to standards, submit it to TSM. TSM.

Senior year simultaneously serving as the logical reason not to buy more t-shirts, and the emotional excuse to buy them anyway. TSM.

Stay sassy and positive. TSM.

“Love you to pieces!” TSM.

Your grade magically going up once you and your teacher realize you’re sisters. TSM.

Using the Find My Friends app to figure out where your sister shacked last night. TSM.

Using anti-nausea pills for the wrong reason. TSM.

Not being able to relate to “starting from the bottom.” TSM.