Going back to school is often a nerve-racking process. For me, ‘often’ is replaced by ‘always’, because I detest going back. Yes, I’m anxious to see classmates and learn new things, but the unfamiliarity is just too much to bear for a few days. I seek familiar comfort and routine, both of which cannot exist in the early days of September.
In my quest for coziness, I ran into an issue involving stress and budgeting my time effectively. After day one of school, I began thinking that I signed up for too many classes. Fairly quickly, it became evident that I had two sensible options:
- Stick it out.
- Drop a class.
I considered my obligations: courses I was taking, extracurricular activities, and my college admissions process. I pinpointed the commitment that took up the most time for the least benefit, and began my journey. The commitment I selected was one of my classes, which will remain unnamed.
Dropping a class is a weird thought for me. I’ve never dropped a class before, although I have considered it in the past on one occasion. In that instance, I chose to stick it out, and regretted it severely. I felt like dropping a class is giving up, quitting, and selling myself short.
As one should in instances like this one, I sought the advice of people who are smarter than I am. A guidance counselor asked me if I would be happier and more effective if I wasn’t taking this class, and I said I would. The counselor advised me to drop it. Other people, biased in their desire to see a happier Ricky, advised me similarly.
I once read that if one’s evidence leans one toward the conclusion that one wants it to, then one needs to find more evidence before making a conclusion. That’s what I did, sort of. I was about to go to sleep one night, and I received an Instant Message from Kim, insightful Exposay contributer. We talked about it, and she gave me exactly what I didn’t want to, but needed to hear: an opposing view.
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