This past weekend I saw about 25 "They're baaaack" Facebook statuses talking about all of the students returning to College Station. After a quick thankful prayer, I began thinking back to my first semester at A&M and all of the happenings that ensued.
Since I had been accepted to A&M in May of my senior year, there weren't any spaces left for me in the dorms which meant I had to find myself an apartment. I totally ate that up because since I had a whole 24 hours of college credit from high school and I knew exactly what I wanted to major in and how long it was going to take, there was no way I was going to consider myself an actual college freshman. Nevermind the fact that I had yet to actually step foot on a college campus. So anyways, in my excitement to have my very own apartment, I bought everything that Bed, Bath, & Beyond, Target and Wal-Mart told me I should have to start college. And then I stuffed it all into a bedroom that was as big as my bathroom at home.
Sadly the part of college I was most excited about was the wardrobe. I could totally wear a t-shirt and FLIP-FLOPS every day of the year and nobody would care. So, on the first day of my college career, I put on my brand new maroon t-shirt and my beloved flip-flops, parked my car in the godforsaken West Campus Garage and started my 12 mile journey to my first class with all of my books in one bag. Not even five minutes later, I heard the screeching of bicycle brakes and the next thing I knew I was flat on my face. I think that event was enough to convince anyone on campus that I was indeed a freshman. So I picked up my pride and my 25 pound backpack and made my way to class, only stopping to ask for directions twice.
As it turns out, when one goes to college, they are expected to study and actually pass the classes they've signed up for. Somebody forgot to inform me about that minor detail and although I've forgotten what I spent my nights doing, hardly any of them were spent with a book open. I think there were a lot of trips to Harry's and The Hall involved though.
After four kinesiology classes and finding out that A&M had the audacity to require me to take 35 hours of science classes over the next four years while keeping an A average in said classes, I decided that maybe I didn't know what I was doing. And because I had yet to master the art of accepting responsibility I thought, WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL ME IT WAS GOING TO BE LIKE THIS? Then I remembered that I hadn't really given anyone the chance to tell me that because I kept assuring everyone that I had everything under control.
Somehow I managed to keep my transcript from that first semester out of my dad's hands and switched my major to something that required zero microbiology classes. Two and a half years later, I convinced the school to give me a diploma and release me into the real world. And in my true form, I have yet to embrace that fact and moved in with my parents. I think though that I'm ahead because in college, it took me moving out on my own and failing before I had to move home. So this way, I've taken out the failure part. And that folks, is some fool proof logic. You're welcome.