Adjustments. I don’t think I’ve ever been so sick of a word in my entire life. For over a year, it’s the only word I heard. It came up in every conversation. “You know, you’ll have to make a lot of adjustments after you start university.” I was sick of hearing that word before I even set foot on a campus, even before I started collecting information booklets to decide where to go. I got advice from people I didn’t even know. My family was a thousand times worse. I wanted to leave just to shut them up.
Now that I’ve lived in residence for a couple of months, I’ve found…okay, Cori, you can say this … they were … rr … ri … right. There, I got it out. I really hate saying that.
It is different here. [Though I still don’t think I had to hear about it so often.] Mom doesn’t bang on my door to make sure I’m up in time for class. I don’t have to fight with anyone over whose project due tomorrow is more important and therefore gets to use the computer. And the strangest thing of all, when I buy a package of Triple Chocolate Fudge Sandwich cookies, I actually get to eat one, instead of my darling siblings grabbing the package and devouring them all before I get home.
But there is one thing that nobody warned me about, that still catches me up sometimes. I … like a class. I’m one of those people who always did well in school, but because I was expected to, not because I actually liked going to class. Essays make me curse, and the word “seminar” has always meant standing in front of a class like an idiot and repeated use of the words “uh,” “um,” and “er.” I went to class, I sat down, I shut up, and I did the work.
I came to Brock fully expecting that pattern to continue. In a couple of classes, it has. But there’s one class I’m taking that doesn’t fit the pattern. It destroys it completely, in fact. I pick up my books, and I’m actually looking forward to going. I sit in class and pay attention, instead of daydreaming. I speak up in seminar instead of repeatedly checking my watch every two minutes, wishing it would hurry up and finish. I won’t tell you which class it is, so I can’t be accused of sucking up. But it’s true.
It’s not perfect, of course. I still thumped my head during the midterm, trying to recall that one little detail that I knew, I just couldn’t remember. And I really should start that essay, instead of leaving it to the day before it’s due the way I usually do. But on the whole, the feeling is, well, sort of nice. It makes me wonder what else will happen in university that will surprise me.
But I still hate the word adjustments.