Sophomore Slump, Kiss My Keister

A warning at the carwash or for my semester?

I wake up between the unholy hour of 8 am and the mildly unfair hour of 9 am Monday through Friday and, like clockwork, turn out the lights to sink into my own steady beat of insomnia at 11 pm (an unheard of time for many college students. I know.) most nights. I attend 18 hours of class on the regular, never missing a beat, and I manage to workout 4 or 5 times a week and eat food that isn't artificially flavored or colored. Oh, and I do all of this while still keeping myself caught up on my TV shows and demolishing the stack of books by my bed. This is my life. 

As a second semester sophomore in college, I know the system pretty well. I've got a routine packed down securely, and, as long as I follow that routine, I'm going to survive this semester. Now, you might be thinking to yourself: Angela, you make college sound like it's a fight to the death. I think you're overreacting just a tad! And, you know, I'd agree with you for the most part. I just don't think you heard me when I said I was taking 18 HOURS!!!  In college terms, that's a mouthful of the trots right there! 19 hours is the limit for students here at the University of Oklahoma, so being one under that is pretty gutsy. 

I've been joking to myself for the last two weeks that I've become some sort of overachiever since the beginning of the semester. I have due dates scribbled in black ink across my calendar and stacks of assorted Post-It Notes with to-do lists and outlines carefully laid out all over my desk.  This wasn't me last semester, and this sure as hell wasn't me my freshman year (the year I procrastinated, watched LOST, and gained 15 pounds eating Burger King and drinking strawberry Fanta). 

My freshman year in a nutshell after watching 6 seasons of LOST in 4 weeks

I remember how bugged out sophomore year of high school made me, so why shouldn't I have expected the exact same thing out of college? Sure, sophomores in high school only need to conquer their geometry and chemistry classes while striving to control their sexual tension and random outbreaks of zit metropolises on their faces. I'm in a whole other lifeboat on this sinking ship, and Leonardo DiCaprio is nowhere in sight to save me! I've got second semester Latin (can you say, carpe kill me?) and the fact that my clothes never seem to match to worry about! 

It all sounds so sophomoric, don't you think? Exactly. 

I've decided that, despite the curse of the Sophomore Slump, I'm not going to let this semester own me. I was once called Superwoman by a friend, and now I'm here to prove that true. So, watch out professors, peers, and South Oval preachers! I am woman, hear me roar!