The Guest Writers series features the works of people who a. have fantastic, applicable thoughts and b. asked for works to be posted. It was developed in the name of democracy, actually having new posts, and Erin Taylor.

My mom has this healthy obsession with buying things, changing her mind and then returning them days or even fashion seasons later. Clothes, shoes, rugs – and once, even a sparkly tiara. You name it, the woman has returned it.

The beauty of commercial returns is that no one gets hurt. It’s as if there’s a non-verbal agreement between you, the store, and the absurd tiara, that allows you to take a chance and maintain the option of a charge (and guilt-free) return.

In college, we referred to this concept of experimentation without formal commitment as “Drop Add.” The scheme was simple but brilliant. At the beginning of each semester, you could enroll in whatever courses you wanted, go to a few classes, check the teacher for any annoying mannerisms or verbal inflections, scan your fellow classmates for potential new loves or more importantly any past flames, and of course read the syllabus to see if you were even interested in the subject.

Some students used Drop Add in the way that it was intended; sampling classes before settling on an optimal schedule and academic path. The rest of us saw Drop Add as a divinely granted “grace period” – an extension of summer or winter break that allowed us to enjoy all the pleasures of college life without any college. No homework, no commitments.
I’m three years into “post grad” life and I’ve decided that in the real world, there are no carefree Drop Add periods. Examine for a moment the three biggest decisions we make as 20-nothings. Job. Dating. Apartment. At any given time, at least one of these is in flux. You accept your dream job only to realize that you hate accounting and have an unexplainable desire to work with disabled children in Tibet. Or you meet a nice guy on the train, go on a few dates but soon realize you’re “just not that into him”, and then have to prematurely call it quits either in phone or via email (depending on your thoughts about relationship karma). We all have apartment debacles, [insert yours].

But if jobs, boyfriends and apartments came with Drop Add periods, we’d have the freedom to take more risks, test our options and make guilt-free returns. But in real life, when you abruptly drop your job, relationship or apartment, someone always gets hurts. There are no credit card refunds or store credit – only emotional consequences.

My best friend and I recently crossed the “more-than-friends” line (which in hindsight looks more like the Grand Canyon). Everything seemed to be going well until one day he hit me with the “I can’t do this anymore” line, which led to the dissolution of our relationship and inevitably the friendship too. To add to my heartbreak, it didn’t take long for me to realize that the reason I’d been “dropped” was because there was someone else he wanted to “add.” And scene.

So now I find myself unexpectedly at the beginning of a new semester in my 20-nothing life. I have the option to say “screw it”, accept the hand I’ve been dealt, and head to Mary Ann’s on a Tuesday night.

Or I can dabble a bit, explore my options, and maybe sign-up for something I would have never imagined trying.

-Erin Taylor