It seemed so easy in high school: the college
lifestyle. I'm not even sure what I thought it would be like. All I can remember is being fairly certain that it would be insanely fun because of all the freedom I would have. And it is. I can go and come as I please. I can eat when I want to. I can sleep when I want to. I can study when I want to. It still sounds easy, doesn't it? Well, it's quickly becoming the bane of my existence.
A lot of people probably have this same problem when first granted so much freedom. It's a very simple problem for me. I have no time-management skills, none. Or rather, I have very little self control. There are far too many things you can be doing at any given moment of time. I know, some of you will roll your eyes and remind me that this is Hanover, after all -- the epitome of Smalltown, USA. And I agree. But even if we don't have a big and exciting city to procrastinate in, I always find new and creative ways to waste time. They range from just hanging out with people in my dorm to playing pool at Collis to checking blitz like a maniac. Seriously, I never thought the addiction would set in this quickly.
It's very surprising, actually. There are times when I find myself checking blitz before leaving my room, then checking it again when I arrive at my destination. I mean, really, there is always the possibility, a chance that someone blitzed me in those five minutes with something of such great importance that it can't be ignored. Blitz conversations are classic, as I'm sure all my fellow '05s have already discovered. Most of my blitzes average less than 10 words. And now I refer to it as blitz even to my non-Dartmouth friends and always get taken aback when they tell me to "e-mail" them. E-mail? What's that? This thing is more addictive and invasive and pervasive than any other chat/instant messenger. They should ban blitz on all public computers or "blitz machines," as one of my friends put it. It's a sickness.
So back to the matter at hand -- I think I have perfected the art of procrastination, and I defy anyone to tell me it's not an art form. It takes a lot of creativity and ingenuity to think of new ways to avoid work, any kind of work. It's not so much that doing work is a great chore, but you know how allergic you can be to it sometimes. Or all the time. I mean, do you people remember senior year of high school? I do, and somehow I don't think that senioritis has left me completely. On that note, I really miss being a senior. And having a car. And my own bathroom. And yes, I am aware that some of you lucky '05s ended up in prime housing locales with private bathrooms, so don't bother trying to rub it in. And the worst part of being a 'shman is that I can't make any derisive freshman jokes either. What a great pity. It was so much fun, too.
No worries, though. I have a strange feeling that this freshman year is going to be quite memorable. I already have so many fun memories from my trip, from orientation (that is, skipping a lot of it), from the first week of classes. It will only get better, what with homecoming just a few weeks away, and then before we know it, winter will arrive. I am actually looking forward to it -- the snow, the ice, everything. Sounds crazy, but coming from a place where a few inches of snow effectively shuts down all schools and offices, I want to experience real snow and from what I've heard, I won't be disappointed. Most likely, having snow outside will give me another cool way to avoid work, namely making snow angels, having snowball fights and the like. Ahhh, lovely procrastination.
This procrastination/inability to do anything is somewhat alarming, but I'll get it right eventually. I have to, at some point or another. Maybe when it finally hits me how much my parents are paying for me to go here. Or maybe I just need to grow up a little, I don't know. The first week of classes just ended and already I have more work than I care to admit. It will make its presence felt, I'm sure. So there is nothing to do but submit to its mercy and do its bidding. That's my resolution. The next time I'm sitting in my room on a Monday night at 11, trying to think of something to do other than what I'm supposed to be doing, I'll remind myself that it's Hanover and that there's nothing going on. Or maybe I'll escape to the Lone Pine Tavern for a cup of cappuccino.
