Re-years

Tonight, my mom asked, “If you could go back and live your entire senior year over again, would you?”
I said, “Yeah.”
“You would jump at the opportunity to do all that homework again?”
“I’ve got my capstone on file, so I could just–”
“That doesn’t count. You would really have to experience the whole thing over again without even knowing you’d experienced it the first time.”
“I would only do it if I could go back with all of the knowledge, all of the experience. I’d do it if I could go back, still in possession of all of that. I would love–"
“I thought about this when I was four,” Blondie squawked.
Haha, Blondie. No, but seriously, I get a kick out of thinking about this.
It’s January 12, 2011. I have reached a certain state of thought thanks to all of my experience on this earth. Let’s say right now I went back in time, with my current state of thought, to June 27, 1988, my birthday, and then, I got to live my life over with my current state of thought being the starting point. It wouldn’t be like Back to the Future, in which Marty McFly actually has to worry about damaging the future. This would be like a dream that I really experienced–more like Inception. Once I reached January 12, 2011 in the dream life, my life, the life we're all living now, would resume, and I would take nothing with me from all of those re-years but the mental experience of them.
Man, I got so excited, thinking about those re-years.
I'd get to enjoy it all again but without any of the dumb worries I had the first time around. I’d know it was all going to turn out okay. I’d just wake up again and be Courtney in the real 2011.
But the real years are actually like re-years in the sense that it always does end up okay, and all of the fears end up being dumb.


The Steak and Shake bathroom. I had just finished presenting my capstone, and Dough took me out to celebrate. May 25, 2010.

Katie, you're a brave girl,
And I know it's only just started,
But I'm gonna be there at six
With some flowers on sticks.