Imagine you're on your phone, trolling through your social media for the seventh time in the past three hours as you would on any other regular day. You log onto Facebook to see that a close friend of yours has posted an article she has written for the Walsh University Odyssey team. Odyssey? What in the world is that? Curious, you read the description of her post.

Ah, yes. She writes articles for Walsh.

Knowing your friend has always had a knack for stringing a web of words together that flow so easily to essentially create a movie in your psyche, you click the article and read her literature. You exit the browser after you have finished reading, impressed that this type of literacy could come from the fingertips of a mere college freshman. Wanting to learn more about this mystery organization, you click on the comments and read what everyone has to say. Barely paying attention to the praise she receives for her work, you skim through the thread to find a comment that could actually be deemed useful — a comment that could give you actual information. Instead of you receiving the information your eager soul so desperately craves, you stumble upon a link a to an application to apply for this writing team that you have never heard of. A smirk stretches across your face as you fingers begin to type. What's that you're doing?

You're. Applying.

You tell your friend that you've applied to be a part of Odyssey and she responds with glee. Days pass. Instead of checking your email like the responsible adult you claim to be, you're out chasing a wild Charizard and battling your other Pokemon. The Odyssey team has been shoved to the back of your mind as your top priorities have been shifted to becoming the very best like no one ever was. It's been a few weeks now, yet you've still heard nothing about this — no calls, no texts, not even emails.

On a random afternoon more than a month later, you receive a text message from the editor-in-chief asking to interview you...but how could this be? You couldn't have possibly been so unbelievably awesome that you landed yourself in a position to be put on a writing team...could you?

Well clearly, you could. The chief called you. You're in.

But...how? You don't even go to Walsh University. This couldn't possibly right. You shrug off the text message thinking that it must have been some sort of mistake, but you schedule an appointment for your interview just for giggles. Due to your conflicting schedules, it takes almost two weeks for you to set up an interview time slot with your editor-in-chief. She finally calls you in the hopes you would pick up, but you're at the dollar store with your mother. You decide to go for the chance and answer your phone. Your mother — without realizing who you're talking to — is asking for your opinion as your editor-in-chief is asking if you have a minute to talk and if now is the right time. Baffled by the overwhelming amount of cookies being shoved in your face and confused slightly by what seemed to be thousands of questions, you tell the chief yes.

Her questions are brief and pertain strictly to your joke of an application. Without holding back your wit, you answer her questions more than sarcastically only to be rewarded with the slightly nervous giggles of a girl who seems way too young to be chief of anything. After your interview which seemed to last approximately five minutes, the chief asks if you have any questions. Thinking you know everything there is to know about pretty much anything, you tell her no with radiant confidence. After you've hung up, you tell your mother your brilliant news but suddenly confusion fogs your mind as you realize something. You don't know if you made the team.

After getting in the car to go home, you receive an email that confirms your suspicion of team acceptance. Out of excitement, you spill coffee on your new shorts that you wanted to wear to your sister's house. You brainstorm ideas in the bathroom as you blow dry your shorts quickly and pray they dry so no one will see the coffee stains that reach from the front of your left thigh all the way to your behind. On the car ride to your sister's, you blurt out to your parents all the wild ideas you could possibly have. They laugh with you and even come up with some ideas of their very own. After settling on one topic, you begin typing about how you're on a writing team for a college you don't even go to. You loved it, your parents loved it. This article is going to be great!

I hope you imagined this hypothetical scenario vividly because it wasn't even a scenario at all. In fact, it happened to me. I just so happen to be on a writing team for Walsh University, a college I don't attend.