With blisters covering my feet and drooping eyelids, I laid down on a hotel bed and turned on the T.V. Harry Potter was playing and my mom handed me my taco from the famous ‘Fuegos’.
College Station. My future home.
To be fair, I was in a hotel room and not my leased townhouse. I also only had two outfits in my suitcase rather than enough for an entire year. I was only in the town for a few days for the dreaded ‘New Student Conference’.
I hated that I had to attend those dumb meetings filled with hundreds of freshman. I’m a senior. I know what I’m doing. I’ve been in college for three years. I’ve worked with professors, written final papers, and figured out the layout of the campus. I found the best places to eat breakfast and lunch, discovered the quietest studying corner on campus, and met friends in all my classes. I know what I’m doing.
And yet I have to do it all again.
I was so frustrated with myself and the path my schooling career was taking. The plan was set and it all got derailed. I had to be sure I wasn’t blaming myself for this set back.
After all, when do our plans ever work without a bump or two? But that doesn’t mean those bumps aren’t uncomfortable. If the road ahead wasn’t under construction then it may be a shorter trip, and now we have to take an un-expectant turn and go down a dirt road.
So I went to sleep annoyed on Wednesday. Thursday I skipped almost all of the meetings, thanking my wonderful cousin, Emily, for having already been to an A&M New Student Conference. I rolled my eyes at all the hype surrounding me. All these future Aggies who were taking pictures in front of Kyle Field and learning the freshman call (is that the word for it?). I stood in line to get my ID and ‘politely’ declined the offer to take a photo myself. When someone later asked me if I got my picture I answered with an extremely convincing “uh…yeah”. To which she replied with “Oh, I believe you.” I did appreciate the sarcastic response.
Maybe the Aggies wouldn’t be as soul sucking as I was worried.
So Friday rolls around and I head to the meeting for Liberal Arts transfers that I have to go to if I want to register for classes. This meeting filled me with hope. The professors were smart, fun, and into their topics. I heard about opportunities I didn’t have the last three years and got the help I needed to figure out my ish. Unfortunately, the two semesters left got stretched into three, but I’m not worried. I registered for classes, got my schedule, and met my future professors. I even made a friend.
So maybe I’m not a full blood Aggie, but I am an excellent english student. I picked up my college career and moved it 600 miles south. I pushed it back a year and condemned myself to re-learning a campus.
But I left that dreaded New Student Conference excited to return to learning. When August rolls around I’ll be at my new future home, a three bedroom townhouse in the oven that is College Station.