Getting accepted to Swarthmore was a huge relief. No more struggling through classes, worrying about grades, stressing over tests: a point here or there wouldn’t faze me.
“Yay, I’m going to college.”
Then the remainder of senior year, graduation, and two months of summer passed by in a flash, and the worrying started all over again.
At least I’d sort of laid out my life for the next four years. Unfortunately, aside from knowing where I was going, I had essentially no idea of what to expect. And what should I expect? Of myself and my peers? Will I drift apart from my old friends? Will I make new ones? Can I handle the difficulty of the courses? And how the hell am I supposed to do my own laundry?
I wasn’t alone in my sentiments, of course; my fears and uncertainties were echoed daily by my peers and fellow class of 2018ers. Questions abounded; questions about classes, questions about what to bring, questions about the exasperating placement exams and the looming tuition bills, despite packets of information and the input of helpful upperclassmen. In the chaos, I guess we all felt a bit lost.
Of course, there is one fact that I know: I’m going to college. I’ll study what I love, find new friends, find time to socialize and party on the weekends, and still manage to actually sleep once in a while. Maybe.
So I’ve chosen a laptop, packed my clothes, shopped for some essentials, but yet more questions harass me. Is the food at Sharples as bad as they say? Will I like my dorm? Can I procrastinate as hard as I did in high school and get away with it? What if I get sick and fall behind in everything?
Most have no simple answer, so I guess I’ll have to find those out for myself, and enjoy myself while I’m at it.
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