Sometimes, All You Need Is a Funny Box

Hey everyone!

It has been a while since my last post, but there is a reason, I promise.

I will begin with Thanksgiving “break.” I say it like this because I went home carrying my rather heavy backpack and my laptop, knowing that I would just change the setting of Dinand to my living room. I knew that college would follow me no matter where I went. Even so, I had a good time. It was nice to spend some family time for a change—just me, my mom, my dad and, of course, my textbooks.

When I came back to the Hill, a week scarier than Halloween was waiting for me. I had three midterms and, if it was not already spooky enough, the final presentation for one of my classes was due. I had no idea where to start. At this point, time management seemed to me like a legend made up by some mythological character.

“Welcome to college,” someone told me. I actually felt it this time.

As of today, three of those four unforgiving hurdles are down. Only one more midterm to go. It has been tough, but I realized somewhere along the way that it is better to just take it one step at a time.  Just something worth noting.

Having said all this, I want to end on a more positive note. My father sent me a package today, and not quite the package itself but the box where it came was the highlight of my day.

My package’s very unexpected box.

“Spoiler alert. It’s socks again.”

Sometimes, Later Might Be Better

Hey there, everyone,

I hope everyone is doing well and that the cold weather has not escalated too quickly on you. I know it did for me. In any case, today I would like to do a bit of a throwback. I would like to tell the short anecdote of my first day of classes.

The day before, my roommate and I spoke for quite some time, speculating how it would all go. Comments along the lines of “This is college now” found their way into many instances of the conversation. Most of the times, those comments came out of my mouth. I went to sleep at about nine o’clock and set about five separate alarms. “Beat It,” by Michael Jackson, was the ringtone for all of them.

When I woke up, it was about five thirty in the morning. None of my alarms had gone off. Thinking, based on experience, that if I went back to sleep thinking “five more minutes” I would sleep for at least an hour and a half, I jumped off my bed. I showered and got ready to head out of the room. It was only a little after six.

I went to Kimball Dining Hall and ate breakfast with a few other people. I made sure to eat something healthy and drink plenty of water. They were supposed to help with brain performance and whatnot. I decided to leave Kimball at about twenty after eight. My class started at nine.

I arrived to my classroom, peeked through the window, and froze completely. It was almost completely filled. I could only spot one empty chair in the back of the room. I thought, desperately, “That’s my chair.”

Ignoring every bit of common sense I have, I walked into the classroom. Everyone turned their heads and gave me the glance that I was so scared of. “You are late on the first day?” the glances yelled. The professor looked at me briefly, then, without any hesitation, kept reading the syllabus. I sat all the way in the back, on that empty chair.

The professor kept reading the syllabus and mentioned something about international relations. It was then that it clicked. I was in the right room and building, but half an hour too early. I entered the wrong class. I felt awkward in every sense of the word, but I did not dare walk out. I thought it would look rude, so I waited until the end of that class.

I approached the professor after class was over. “I’m sorry for interrupting class,” I said. “My class actually starts at nine. I just got confused.” The professor chuckled. “Okay,” he said before leaving. I then learned that, sometimes, too early can be bad, too. Just something to keep in mind.