Being in college is being in the real world.
A professor offered this nugget in class today.
And even though I don’t own real estate, a manicured lawn or a squall of mewling offspring, I feel like a real person. Living the real life. Doing real things.
I mean, where else but college would you have to rush to meetings after classes, inhale morsels in that 10 minute window between lectures, and then also be expected to have a passable social life. I don’t think adults in the “real world” understand what it’s like to learn new information, make notes, organize meetings, attend events, scarf down meals, channel appropriate emotions, prioritize people and things and books. And then be answerable: to a parent, a professor, a friend, or an inner conscience.
Undergrads are savants of the part-time. We have part-time jobs, part-time school, part-time thinking time, part-time part-timing and full time expectations.
I don’t remember a time when I’ve had a moment to myself. A singular shining bubble of encapsulated time where I could think about where I’m going in life, or what I should be doing. I just know what I have to do, and how much time I have to get it done.
And the questions. Professors will ask why you missed class, parents will ask where you’ve been, friends will ask for time; rinse and repeat.
This is real life, and these are real problems. Take a deep breath and plod on.
Also, call your mom, just to say hi.

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