And then the semester started with a bang.
Everyone moved in, and campus came alive. The weekend before classes started, we attended convocation, club dinners and kickoffs, organization fairs, cookouts, new student events, etcetera, until our heads swam. It was almost a blur, really. A fun blur, full of free t-shirts and free food and school spirit, but a blur nonetheless.
And then classes started.
And they went well. They weren’t too horribly overwhelming, despite there being so many more of them than I had grown accustomed to for the past month. It wasn’t bad. In fact, I was extremely optimistic, excited about all that I was going to learn. Especially in my Gender Studies and Intro to LMC classes, which are still my favorites.
I went to classes and attempted to memorize my schedule. I took a first day of school picture with my friends for my mom and Instagram. I went to Paper and Clay, the art studio on campus, when I needed a break. I took some naps, joined clubs, watched some Netflix, ate, and did a lot of homework.
I still am, actually. And I’m still learning too. And I love it.