The End of the Second Week
The thing that bothers me about college is that each semester, my schedule and my friends' schedules change. It means that lunchtime will not always be at 11 40, when Chris gets out of his class, and that it will probably not be the same lunch group. It means that there won't be marioparty or smashbro games every night. It means having constantly to adapt and change and find new people. Ugh. This year, I'm stressed because my friends have disappeared off-campus, holed up in houses. I wish so much that Russ still lived one floor above me, that Meg popped in sometimes to fill the room with her, and that the Boys were pulling Laurie away to play Halo. And even all that I could bear if Laurie were on-campus. But he is working and driving, which leaves me in my quiet, amber den, feeling like a fox in its little hole.
Oh, I know it's not bad at all. I always complain and gripe at the beginnings of a school year.
My classes are interesting this semester. This is the first time that I haven't really been excited for any classes; this semester, they leave me with ambiguous, vague ideas on what they could do to help me. Biology to satisfy a major requirement, 19th century lit and black narratives, public health literature (a joke, really) and principles of health and wellness. I find myself missing Dr Greenberg, dear old soul, and Prof Levao, the little darling.
This semester is tinted with nostalgia. Could it just be that this is junior year, and I am one step too much closer to finishing my college career?
Oh, I know it's not bad at all. I always complain and gripe at the beginnings of a school year.
My classes are interesting this semester. This is the first time that I haven't really been excited for any classes; this semester, they leave me with ambiguous, vague ideas on what they could do to help me. Biology to satisfy a major requirement, 19th century lit and black narratives, public health literature (a joke, really) and principles of health and wellness. I find myself missing Dr Greenberg, dear old soul, and Prof Levao, the little darling.
This semester is tinted with nostalgia. Could it just be that this is junior year, and I am one step too much closer to finishing my college career?