Oh the joys of adjusting back to college life. For your entertainment, I have decided to share some of my triumphs, follies, and just plain bizarre moments.
Well the first day back was pretty standard. I moved in my stuff, attended to some banking, had lunch, and kissed my mom and dad goodbye. Then I unpacked, organized, and rearranged to make things actually fit in this shoebox, although it is, thankfully, much bigger than my room from last year.
On the second day back, I prepped for classes, organized my books, and went to a two-hour long orientation for my job, for which I am immensely excited as well as nervous. I’m truly honored to be working as a tutor, but I just hope I’m good enough. Honestly, whenever I’ve got some down time, ugly ideas seem to rudely intrude into my mind – ideas like, what if I get too stressed out with an internship, a tutoring position, and my own schoolwork? Or what happens when I have to help someone who doesn’t want to be helped? Or, even worse, someone who desperately wants to be helped but I don’t have the ability?
Anyway, after tutor orientation, I was pushed and shoved around the Breslin center during that famed “good time” that is Sparticipation. In short, I disliked it. Now, the event isn’t so bad when it’s outside, but due to rain it was moved to the Breslin center, where thousands of kids were milling around like sheep while myriad different club members clambered for attention.
And Wednesday the real fun began. It was the first day of classes, and of course, when I got up to shower, the bathroom was closed. Okay. That I can deal with. So I went up two flights of stairs to get to the next women’s bathroom only to find I had forgotten my shampoo and soap, which really is the whole point of a shower. So I went back downstairs and tried not to wake up my roommate as I scrambled around in the dark in search of my things. By that time, I was nearly running late (or, at least, my definition of late, which isn’t really late, but hey).
By the time I reached my 8 a.m., the classroom was nearly full – even though I was a solid 20 minutes early. I was shocked – usually early classes are ridiculously subdued and empty. Then, the professor was having some major difficulties in working with technology, and he was going over the material quickly and disjointedly. Great. Just what I need for a math class.
After statistics, I rushed to Spanish where the instructor spoke Spanish – only Spanish. Now, I expected this to an extent, but not on the first day (especially when it’s been two years since I’ve had a Spanish class). Feeling slightly overwhelmed and very disgruntled (I discovered I had purchased the wrong book), I left class and headed back to my room in the sweltering heat without air conditioning.
That afternoon, I trotted off to Berkey Hall with my purse in my bookbag so that I could buy the correct $158 Spanish text afterward. Then, nervous about the codes needed for the online portion of the class that were supposed to be enclosed in said text, I freaked out and randomly went to another bookstore when they hung up on me after placing me on hold for four minutes and 48 seconds. I appreciated that.
Friday was a pretty standard school day. Class till 10, then a two hour long meeting, then homework, then some free time that involved me nearly sweating to death in my room and my friends and I playing Heads Up in the air conditioning.
Now, this morning is where things get just plain odd – I seem to have the ability to attract strangely confused men.
Really, I don’t know where this came from, but between meeting the drunken guy in the lobby last year and a half-naked guy in the hall this morning, it seems fair to say that I must have acquired this bizarre – would you call it a gift? – at some point.
Anyway, on my way to breakfast this morning, I encountered a shirtless man outside my door. He asked to borrow my shaving cream. Feeling bad for him, I consented (he had mumbled something indistinct about his boss). With a warning that it might smell very fruity and feminine, I gave it to him and he said he’d bring it back when he’d finished. I munched my French toast sticks in the cafeteria and once again headed back to my basement dorm room. A few minutes later he returned asking for a razor – his broke.
“Well, your choices are green and pink,” I said, showing him the package.
“Gimme the pink one!” he said.
Yet again, he returned after a few moments, razor and shaving cream in hand. I declined his offer to pay for the razor, and he left a dollar bill on my dresser.
Now, many questions come to mind at the random presence of this seemingly confused young man on an all girls’ floor, but I chose to just ignore these and continue with my day.
So, all in all, the first week back was not horrible, but it wasn’t perfect either. It had some low moments of self-doubt and homesickness, as well as some moments of happiness and humor. My hopes are high and my faith is in the Lord to see how this year will continue.