We’re all used to the cookie-cutter conversation you have a hundred times the same exact way when you go home after being away for a semester or so — the conversation you have with relatives, high school friends and parents of the kids you grew up with.

It starts with a hug and ends with a list of questions you’ve got prepared answers for.

“How are you liking school?”

“It’s great; my friends are super cool.”

“Are classes really hard?”

“Yeah, but it’s OK. It’s pretty crazy studying for tests sometimes, but I make it work.”

Where it turns to the most predictable of responses is when they start asking about things you did in high school. It’s all they know about you, after all, so it’s not a dumb thing to ask about. But once you’ve been away from high school activities for a few years, it’s almost funny how ardent some people get — especially older relatives and family friends — about insisting you get back into what you did in the “good ol’ days.”

What most people go to straight away is the classic, “I’d love to; I just don’t have time anymore.”

I’d like to point out that that’s a complete load of crap.

Whatever it is, you totally have time for it. You literally have all the time in the world to do anything your body will physically allow you to do.

Of course, I see what you’re saying — you mean that there are other things you’ve prioritized that get a bigger chunk of your emotional focus than the things you used to enjoy in high school. You’ve moved on.

But if that’s what you mean, why not say it?

Let’s pretend you don’t have such a high opinion of yourself for a moment and that, although the things you do are difficult and interesting, they’re not nearly as time-consuming or life-threatening as you make them seem like they are to get everyone to notice how tough you’ve got it.

Looking at your life and your calendar from the truest of views, you’d see you have time for anything.

I could try out for a musical on campus or form a band or start writing a novel. Though it’s true that I choose not to, it’s not true that I “just don’t have time” for it. The issue is that I don’t make time for it.

We act like we’re ashamed to admit we have new interests. We feel the only thing we can say to the people who wonder why we didn’t try out for the track team or join the choir is that there’s this huge, cosmic power preventing us, despite our deepest tragic regrets, from signing up.

We just don’t do it anymore. And that’s because we’ve got a hundred other cool things going on.

So instead of frowning sadly and telling your aunt you don’t take saxophone lessons anymore, smile and tell her about all the awesome new things you do that you prefer make time for.

Will Beaton is the Editor-in-Chief of The Dakota Student. He can be reached at [email protected].