You do it every year without fail. There’s a string of weeks where you’re nice and organized with all your notes in the right folders, laundry done as soon as you’re running low on undies and putting everything where it belongs. And then, you forget your planner and decide you don’t feel like really carrying it, or you’re too tired to do that load of laundry…
Okay, it might not happen to you, but it happens to me.
Barely two weeks into the semester, and my room is still pretty navigatable, but far from clean. I can’t see the desk calendar where I put all of my due dates and meetings down anymore. I just don’t have the patience to be neat. I’m sure it’s a problem – I’ve been messy all my life – but I don’t really feel like fixing it. Read More »




I don’t know if it’s because I transferred after my freshman year, or if time really does fly when you’re having fun, but it doesn’t seem like I should be going into my senior year. Everyone else seems surprised by this too; family and friends always give me that “Are you serious?” look when I tell them that I’m going to be graduating in May 2009.
By my senior year of college, I could fly through my assignments and earn A’s on half-assed work. I could effectively balance bar-hopping and writing essays, and working part-time jobs and cramming for midterms. I knew that grad school would kick it up a notch, and I was ready for the challenge. However, I had forgotten what it felt like to try and not succeed, and I wasn’t quite as prepared for my self-esteem to take a beating.
April 1st. To some, it’s a day to tape faucets on and put saran wrap on toilet seats. It’s the first official day of the first official month of Spring. It’s a signal that winter is indeed, basically, over.
When I was pledging my sorority Freshman year – for 10 freaking weeks – all I could think about was the day it would all end; I would be a full-fledged member of the house and I wouldn’t have to get the older girls ice cream at 3am, carry cigarettes around for them just in case they might need one while they were out on campus, or have to sleep on the floor of a very cold sorority house every weekend. I was absolutely miserable, but I always knew that there was a bright light at the end of the tunnel (read: date parties and a private cook!) and it would all be worth it in the end.