I am a spy.
That’s what I say, at least. It sounds a lot more interesting than the more accurate terminology. During my first year of college, I get to work with a professor. Right now, I’m using my blasted slow internet connection to lurk other colleges’ programs and learn what they’re doing to attract students. As I said, spying. Kind of.
I’m paid a little for this project, and so far don’t have another job. Because of that – and because I have fewer hours of class time than in high school – I assumed college would be less stressful. Life lived at a slower pace, lots of free time – fun. Not work.
I was very wrong.
On my second day of classes, I was assigned fifty pages of reading (and an entire memoir to get to when I had the time). I’ve already taken a quiz, signed on for an oral commentary date, and taken at least twenty pages of notes. I’ve read, typed, and checked school emails until my eyes burned.
That’s just the schoolwork. I’ve made countless treks to the bookstore for last minute supply refurbishment. I’ve tried to snag the piano when it’s free, be early enough to get a place in exercise classes, and reach the laundry room before anyone else (so I can lose $1.25 to a broken machine without an audience.) Right now, sheets are draped across my bedpost and chair. A pair of damp pants hangs off the edge of my desk. My drying rack isn’t quite big enough. Laundry days are fun.
Every day I need to clean my breakfast dishes, tidy, and dash down four sets of stairs to check my mail. Later today I’ll need to rent out a vacuum for our sadly messy floor. At some point, I’ll need to develop an organization system for my even more sadly disordered desk. And did I mention I have quizzes to study for?
College is like jumping into deep water. It’s not a question of swimming. It’s a question of trying not to drown.
(Note: I wrote this post on Sunday, but neglected to post it until now. The quizzes will be faced this afternoon, and my pants are dry. All is relatively well. Still treading water here.)