I survived. It’s been two days of classes and I haven’t died, dropped out, lost my brain, or scaled the walls yet. But I think I may be ready to come home.
The professors are all nice, but the last 48 hours are blurrier than the world at 2 A.M. So right now they’re all named Profe, they all have three kids, they all have eight degrees, and none of them accept late work.
I hear the students talk about something called “Syllabus Shock” which I don’t understand. Does that have anything to do with reading every syllabus at least five times and still not understanding it? Or the fact that I’ve run out of highlighters to categorize the assignments and I went through three pens trying to get it all written in my planner? And said planning took longer to do than the homework assigned? And my brain still panics every time I lift the page of one of those things?
It’s a lot of reading. A LOT of reading. Pages and pages and I’m sure I’ll read all this stuff better at home, right? I haven’t found the MBI-equivalent of that nice red armchair we have, so I have a good excuse. Poor studying environment, or something clinical like that.
Except I have class again tomorrow and I don’t have time to come home. I have to go read 25 more pages and pretend that I understand it. Please send coffee.
Maybe missing you,
And that armchair,