A little less than a month ago, I sat in a crowded stadium as the dean of students called my name, deeming me officially a “post grad,” “adult” and lots of other words that I am in still in denial about associating with myself.

It is strange to think about the things that you miss that you never envisioned you’d be the least bit nostalgic for. For me, this is the first day of school. Ever since I could remember, I mildly dreaded the first day of school. I loved shopping for color coordinated school supplies and picking out that outfit for the first day.

A few weeks ago, my mom was discussing our Rosh Hashanah plans with my nana. Somehow, in their conversation, my nana made a comment when referring to services that was something along the lines of, “it’s the same thing every year.” Although this comment grew to be something we teased her about, it led me to really think about the statement. Are the High Holidays truly the same every year?

In both high school and college, Halloween was pretty straight forward. I never really had to deliberate about my plans. I dressed up for school in high school and celebrated over the weekend, sometimes even attempting to trick-or-treat. In college, everything seemed planned.

A new twitter handle has found a spot in my heart: @PostGradProblems. Although I can admit that a few of their tweets may not be relatable, the whole premise of the account resonates with me. It is blunt, nostalgic, and still possesses a sort of “woe is me” attitude over seemingly minute aspects of life.

This week marks my tenth week at my first full time job after college. It is honestly remarkable to me that it has only been 10 weeks because I feel as though I have been here for so much longer. My position is at the Simon Wiesenthal Center, which in their mission statement is described as a “global Jewish human rights organization that confronts anti-Semitism, hate and terrorism, promotes human rights and dignity, stands with Israel, defends the safety of Jews worldwide, and teaches the lessons of the Holocaust for future generations.”

Most families have an heirloom that someday will serve as a prized possession to the person that inherits it. For me, this treasure, a simple silver coin, is undoubtedly the most important thing I own, a token that reminds me of my grandfather, Conrad.

I am almost constantly guilty of calling my 10 to 20 or so closest friends my best friends. My mom used to always inquire as to how I can call my closest friends from school, camp, abroad, and life in general all my best friends. Mindy Kaling summarizes this perfectly in her sitcom, The Mindy Project, “[a] best friend isn't a person; it's a tier.”

My mom jokes that her temple growing up was basically a church. My dad was raised in a Kosher home (which I am sure he snuck his fair share of cheeseburgers into) and attended a Traditional synagogue. This matrimonial union led to my early Hebrew school days and Bat Mitzvah taking place at a Conservative synagogue.

Once upon a time in the 1990s, Blink 182 eloquently shared with the world that "nobody likes you when you're 23." I am turning 23 in approximately 10 days. Let's hope they were wrong. The only slightly appealing thing about this milestone (or lack thereof) is that 23 was Michael Jordan's number, so at least that's something I can fixate on for at least five to ten minutes and hope will bring some sort of luck…