Under the glow of the setting Summer sun, my roommates and I decided that the greatest thing we could do was move our home outside. It is our last single summer—the last summer before graduations, Bachelor’s degrees, careers, and our spirit’s are as free as five 22-year olds living in a white-paneled three bedroom home for the summer.

We unfolded the green lawn chairs, lugged a junky brown recliner onto the front porch, strung up ornate green patio lights, and purchased a charcoal grill. Last night, on a $4o whim, we purchased an inflatable pool and spent hours airing it up with a bicycle tire pump.

We rigged up the iHome and had a dance party in the driveway while we grilled hotdogs and hamburgers.

We drove to the lake for an afternoon in the sand.

I don’t know about you, but these carefree, long, deliriously happy summer days have me feeling 22, and this is the summer I will remember for the rest of my life.