In the beginning I hated it.

I hated the drive and sitting in class. I hated the stress of writing papers and studying for tests. I didn’t like searching for a parking spot. I didn’t want to listen to people talk about how drunk they or someone else had gotten last night. I was miserable with this sudden shift in my life from my own relaxed pace of learning to an environment ruled by the syllabus. I was afraid that I would be behind academically, that I would fail and disappoint everyone.

In the end I liked it.

I liked the independence of getting out the door in the early mornings before sunrise and zipping into the parking lot by the science buildings. I liked getting back psychology quizzes with 100\% and art exams with A’s. I liked biology lectures and labs where we got to play with Skittles and forks to learn about community ecology. I liked learning new things every class and coming home with some strange story or interesting fact to share. I liked feeling so grown up and in control. I even liked studying hard for finals, knowing that everyone else on campus was feeling the same pressure and getting sick of flipping through stacks of index cards.

I learned that…

A bad professor can ruin a perfectly good subject and that a great one can get you interested in something you never cared about before. That final exams aren’t so bad, especially if you start studying long before they start. That playing with candies can be deemed educational even on the collegiate level. That all the other freshmen, public, private, and home schooled, were just as terrified as me. And that we all got through it just fine and maybe even enjoyed ourselves.