On January 17, I returned to the icy clutches of the Midwest. Whatever rejuvenation the break at home had given me was quickly stripped away during the drive from Virginia to Ohio, and then another trek from Ohio back to Iowa City. I was hoping that a bright start to the new semester would overshadow the negative temperatures and burning gulps of freezing wind, but the beginning’s been a little rough so far. 

I woke up on the first day of brand-new classes with a sore throat and the knowing dread that I would be sick for that entire week. Then, in addition to the feverish aches and pains my cold brought on, I received a few rejections from programs and opportunities I had applied to earlier. While I had ended my first semester feeling fulfilled, and with plans on how I wanted to spend the next one, those plans were no longer going to be a possibility. I stared out at the frozen river, wondering what I should do now. 

Not every part of the college experience is going to be lively or glamorous, which can be especially discouraging when you imagine it as being so. There may be those quiet moments where you question what you’re doing, how you ended up here, or if you’ll ever figure any of “it” out. 

But at least you have three or four years to really investigate that “it.” 

Tomorrow’s a new (and hopefully warmer) day. 

Until next time!