Eight years old, life is simple. I eat cereal for breakfast, wear clothes my mother picks out, and my Sega Genesis is working out just fine for me. All of a sudden, "life comes at you fast," shouts the Nationwide Advertiser. Fast-forward a decade: 18 years old, I no longer eat breakfast, my mother does not even know when I go shopping, they no longer make games for Sega systems and life, well, life is no longer simple.
I was not ready.
I am beginning to think that I was not prepared for this stage of my life. College is not turning out how I expected, and I am at a loss of what to do.
I thought that I was ready. I found a job in New York this past summer because I could not have gotten out of Springfield, Va. fast enough. The Dixie Chick's song "Ready to Run" had been playing in my head since the beginning of my junior year of high school, and by June of this year, I was on my way out the door. Had I known what lay ahead of me, I might have slowed down just enough to enjoy some of moments of the past couple of years.
College has been in my plans since I can remember; my parents and I had discussed this stage of my life without reservation or question. This understanding was not only by my choice but was to my benefit as well, and I could not wait for the freedom and independence that one automatically obtains when he pays tuition to any university.
I had this utopian view of college as a place where I would grow as a person, meet new people, experience new things and, most importantly, be away from home. I never factored in the part about having to work while attending my long-awaited dream. The reality has finally hit: I have had to read, write and study more in the last eight weeks than ever before. Just earlier today, I was discussing the workload with a friend, and while we have both never pulled an all-nighter, we had also never stayed up until 3 a.m. until we got to U.Va.
As if the academic portion of my life was not experiencing enough turbulence, my flight is running out of jet-fuel, and the land below is still barely visible. I feel like I have senioritis all over again. I'm unmotivated, but worried at the same time; I've even begun this new trend where I put off procrastinating to a later time.
In addition to my downward dog of morale in the academic realm, my social life is not up to par. I came to college with the expectation that after three weeks, my core group of friends would be smelted together and ready for store shelves by Christmas, but I couldn't have been more wrong. I have yet to find a best friend or someone to marry, I barely speak to my roommate and as sad as this sounds, I'm already getting sick of parties. Not to worry though, I have meet some amazingly interesting people whom I would consider to be more than acquaintances, friends if you will, and luckily for me, I came here with some very strong friendships from high school.
I could try to put some sort of consumer-oriented positive spin on this, but why bother? We've all heard the same ole' "everything will work out in time" and "good things come to he who waits" clichés. I realize that with time, everything will work out, and patience has proven to be effective in most scenarios. I just wish I hadn't had such high hopes. Don't get me wrong -- I love it here and would never go back to the high school, hometown way of life, but sticking it out is never as easy as it sounds. Were my expectations too high or am I just not performing at my potential? Maybe I'm just flaky or in a slump right now. Either way, there is too much to do before the night is over and not enough time to dwell on the negative (which is actually one very beneficial aspect of having too much on your mind). I suppose things are looking up after all.
Ian's column runs biweekly Friday. He can be reached at ismith@cavalierdaily.com.
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