Shut up! That’s what I wanted to say when little Eric told me 2001 till 2005 was old school. Those were the years I was in undergrad; there’s nothing “old school” about it. But I didn’t say anything. I walked to my teacher’s desk, made a note in my journal, and continued teaching the class.
Now since I’m almost thirty, I know that I’m getting older. And I realize that high school was a long time ago. I wouldn’t ever want to be the sixteen-year-old version of myself again; my bangs were awful. But that doesn’t mean that I’m okay with being called “old school” by teenagers. It’s just harsh, you know. I’m still young at heart, right?
Tata for now.