Because apparently I broke a mirror (or 20) in my youth, my return to campus yesterday was met with crisis.
After putting the finishing touches on my room, I was going over my schedule before classes resumed and my friend happened to notice something just a wee bit disconcerting, in regards to my Wednesdays. I have Intro to Film from 2:10-4:10…but my Poetry Workshop starts at 3:30.
This was about midnight. Anyone who could potentially help ease the panic that gripped my insides was fast asleep. I emailed my adviser and my poetry professor (incidentally, the same person) explaining the problem. I still have no idea how I got to sleep that night. All summer, I was so jazzed for those classes and now I was going to have to sacrifice one? How was I to choose? Yes, both classes are going to be offered again and yes, I could just wait and take them then. But my schedule was so perfectly perfect that I was devastated to think it was all about to be shattered. Besides, I didn’t want to have to sign up for another class the day before it started. I’ve had recurring nightmares about being woefully unprepared for class and let me tell you, they’re nightmares for a reason.
But, in the end, I didn’t have to worry about any of that.
My adviser and I met the next day and voila (see, Mom, my one year of French is finally coming in handy) everything was sunshine. It’s going to take some effort on my part, some warping of time, but I’ll be able to take both classes.
I was completely floored that everything turned out so well. More so, I feel forever in the debt of my adviser, who was more than willing to put up with the rather large possibility of me bursting through the doors every day during class in the middle of her lecture. In my mind, I see myself wearing a leather jacket and eating a Popsicle as I casually stroll to my seat, pushing freshmen roughly out of the way. In actuality, it’ll probably just be me trying my hardest to blend in with the décor and apologizing profusely for my birth.
Just remember, kids, professors are your friends. They want you to succeed as much as you do. It all comes down to how much effort you put into it.
In other news, my room. Oh man, what a sight to behold. When I was going through high school, picturing what it would be like to finally be in college, this is what I imagined my room would be like. Imagine the bridge of the starship Enterprise…but cooler. Imagine the Oval Office…but cooler. Whatever room you’re currently picturing after my elegant description, it’s just like that…but cooler.
As opposed to last year, I actually have a view not displeasing to the eye. Instead of the beautiful cafeteria dumpsters, I now get to look out my window and see the sprawling concrete Sahara that is Simplot Parking lot. It’s not much, but I’ll take what I can get.
Wherever you are in the world, readers, I hope you have as good of day as I just did. If you are somewhere here on campus, I have a feeling you will. Mainly because there are tater tots in the Caf.
-Ashley A. Miller
Ashley is a sophomore Creative Writing major from Payette, Idaho.