The Frosh Flu

Just a bit over a week ago, I was participating in orientation week (what my school calls ‘frosh’). It was lots of fun until I got back to my place for my first week of school.

I woke up on Tuesday morning to realize that I had contracted the ‘frosh flu’. It’s not an actual flu, but it’s a bad cold that everyone had. Everyone I ran into for the next few days was coughing, sniffling, and speaking hoarsely.

And yet for the following week, I dragged myself out of bed and made myself go to class, even though I was dizzy and tired and just generally couldn’t really think.

Why did I subject myself to this torture? I didn’t actually have to go to school; after all, I’m on my own now. No one is forcing me to go to class. None of the teachers were taking attendance (except for my very determined French teacher).

But on the other hand, I would have missed so much if I had missed a day or two of classes. That’s the thing I’m quickly discovering about college; there’s no time for me to goof off, or spend time away from class just because I have a cough.

So forget the Squeeze Theorem. Forget force=mass*acceleration. Forget the Shang dynasty, forget conjugations. The most important thing I learned during my first week of classes is that I don’t have room to goof off and slip behind in my grades. I learned that I need to start working from day 1, no matter what.


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