College Recap Three: Comfortable With Getting Uncomfortable
One baby step at a time
Last year, I went back to college. Given that I was doing well with writing online, I returned to learn more about journalism. Also, I was sick of being at home all day and needed an outlet to leave the house.
So, here I am, in my third semester in college. What a fascinating four months it has been.
The semester began with a strike. I kept hearing that the professors would protest last semester. I kept vigilant for a strike in the fall of ’23, so I didn’t have to do my written final.
The strike didn’t happen until the first week of the ’24 spring semester. I can’t say I was upset. I’ll need another week to relax from the previous semester. I thought I was scott-free and wouldn’t attend any of my classes.
I did.
A professor didn’t postpone classes since he attended a conference the following week. It’s not a problem. The photojournalism class was my first class, Monday to Wednesday. I go to college only on those days and can ride the bus home early.
My week of leisure came crashing down when the strike ended the following day. The professors and college agreed on the terms in one day. This protest must be the shortest in college history. I see that the professors weren’t asking for much. Or maybe it ended fast because of the rain.
Either way, the semester was underway.
In the fall of ’23, I applied and got a job as a college newspaper contributor. It is a free position. I started small to work my way up, but that wouldn’t be the case, as I’ll turn down the position.
I emailed the head editor, telling them I was unwell and that I couldn’t join the newspaper for that reason. What a load of crap. That wasn’t the reason I turned down the role.
They might be reading my stories, so I’ll be brutally honest.
The reason was…a few different factors.
One, the lack of communication led to my decision. I was unhappy that no one had told me about the orientation once the college newspaper accepted me. Lastly, I didn’t want to ride the bus on a Friday for a meeting. I had already wasted enough time riding and waiting for the bus on Monday and Wednesday.
Of course, I would go if it was a paid position. I wonder if I should’ve gone for a paying job since I know I can get it. I’m taking a class with the newspaper's head professor in the fall. I’ll reapply if he encourages me to rejoin.
The rest of the semester went well. I got all A’s, maybe because all my classes were creative-based.
I met a few girls I would like to know more about in my classes and on the bus. We had plenty of encounters, and I couldn’t go for it. Seeing if we have common interests and their age stops me. I feel like that’s fear talking.
But, if I see them (bus girl for sure), I hope they’re 20 plus.
Like Ricky Bobby said, “Please be (over) 18.”
The fall of 2024 is shaping up to be a decent semester. I have all summer to think about it.
Here’s to doing things that make my heart rate spike.
I have to do it. It’s good for me.
