The hustle of the first days of the semester left me a confused mess, as I’m sure it did many.
As I sat through the syllabus of one of my classes, I began to wonder whether I had missed work. Luckily, I hadn’t, but I had forgotten my uniform pants. Having walked to class that morning, I utilized my hour between classes to power walk a mile to my apartment, shove spaghetti into my face hole and power walk back, making it just in time to find a spot in the center of the Clark lecture hall.
I laughed through a clip of “The Office” the professor showed in class, and then I awkwardly shuffled out of the room, having showed up an hour earlier than I was supposed to. I went through the rest of my day smiley despite the confusion. Later, I instructed a fitness class in front of 40+ students with sweater fuzz covering my armpits. Still, I was not upset. Disheveled and unorganized, but at least the workload was minimal.
And that, I conclude, is the essence of syllabus week: Enjoying the last moments of freedom with moments of extreme disorientation.
Students spend time usually reserved for homework nostalgically watching Christmas movies and scrolling through vacation photos, dreaming of simpler days when the only concern was the number of cookies eaten and not the number of tests to be completed in the coming months.
Singles everywhere may have also fallen back into a disappointing routine.
As classes begin, students male, female and intersex alike, search for their future lover. For many, classes have no such prospects, so you go home and re-download Tinder. Of course, this eliminates any semblance of hope.
So, you listen to your favorite love songs and pretend John Mayer’s singing to you as you dance with your cat and sob silently. You know those songs will never be sang to you. Colorado State University is no Camp Rock and not a single one of the Jonas Brothers are burning up for you, baby.
And so, you refocus energy to friends, because there’s something you can rely on.
Coming back from break, you may have (probably did) realize that a few of your friends are actually only tolerable in small doses.
But, look closely and you’ll find the friends that comfort you and make you feel good, much like hot tea or a bowl of fruit. Stick with tea and fruit-like friends. They will get you through your days of confusion, tests, essays and loneliness.
Good friends will be the glitter on your bad days, because the good ones also won’t leave.
Enjoy the deeper meaning of a glittery friendship when you forget your pants or flash your fuzzy armpits to a large group of people.
Collegian A&E Writer Cassie Maack can be reached at email@example.com or on Twitter @maackcl.