summer endeth.

So here we are, the end of summer. For me, and I imagine for many other whiney children, August's final days are upon us, which means school is around the corner. So there -- even though our calendars make us check off the equinox in a few weeks, the end of summer is...well, tomorrow.


I shouldn't have said whiney. Whiney is what I was during the last couple weeks available to me in order to cram in all that summer reading I danced around with procrastination as a swing partner. Whiney is the way I felt when I first got to college and was unsure if I should be feeling as close to my Syracuse friends after two semesters, as I did to high school companions I had known for over 10 years. The whine, this time, is just the nerves building up to Wednesday's first graduate class.


I think you know what I'm talking about when I say nerves; I mean one of two kinds of nerves: the hole in your stomach that swallows a symbolic peach pit each time your conscious drifts by the thought of doing something you're afraid of. Or it's the kind of flutter-butterfly that flickers a mix of hope, happiness, and excitement amidst your white and red blood cells, swimming vibrantly in your veins. School's always been a combination, dependent on so many other factors, and this time around it's a banter in my brain such things like my ability, my time away from school, my belief in what I chose to pursue, my faith in the program I selected, and the other extracirriculars that are my life, and soon to be a newlywed life. Shouldn't I spoil that man I'm about to marry with nothing than myself working along his schedule so that our time together is even more special because we can actually do things, together?


No, I know this is the right choice. The right discipline. The right time for me. I put forth a little of my patience and timeliness in "angels" (whomever they be) that encompass me, but I more importantly took the measures I needed to involve myself academically at this juncture in my life. I went out and bought my little notebooks, tried to salvage the right kind of "used" book from Amazon to make my textbook purchasing worthwhile...perhaps setting aside my "first-day outfit" on my dresser is in order! (Not too much for a graduate, I don't believe.) Whatever nerves hit me Wednesday, my first fall day, they'll be carried with me and my belongings, as I meander around my new campus, only to be greeted with a kind, intelligent professor I'm sure. From the third grade to my first post-undergraduate term, I'll enter this fall like any other:


I'll clutch my books a little tight, scan the room for possible workmates and friends, and diligently shorthand the lecture notes with a clear and probably impossible intent to keep them organized the same way throughout the semester. I'll shoot for the A, and I'll be happy with what I get only when I know it's what I earned. I'll aim to be a student again, and this time not just of the college experience, but of a deserving life-changing career, possibilities open to what I take in and what I give back to myself.