I was talking with some friends about high school the other day – those four years come up in conversation every so often – and I realized that I haven’t changed as much as I would have thought. It’s been almost three years now since I graduated from high school, and I hardly feel more mature. Telling people that I will be abroad in Barcelona next semester gives me a moment’s worth of maturity every once in a while, as the idea of exploring Europe without parents seems to me like something that separates grown-up collegians from childish high schoolers. Leaving the abroad office the other day after handing in a medical form, I was proud.

Not just proud, I was glowing. “Bring med forms to the abroad office” had been on my to-do list since the third week of September. It is now November, and I have just allowed myself to cross this task off my list. And it was then that it hit me. I have changed since college. I have taken on a form of laziness that I didn’t even know existed.

I don’t know if laziness has something to do with maturity – I would think that the two correlate negatively – but this new sluggishness has been taken to a level I did not know existed. In high school, class began at 7:40 a.m. If I was not in my seat when the bell rang (or when the music stopped in NSHS’s case), then I was tardy. Nine tardies meant not getting any credit for a course. If this were true for UR, I would not be getting credit in a single course, but what makes this situation embarrassing is that my day does not even begin until 2 p.m. At that time of the day, my sister, a junior in high school, is finished with school and is on to field hockey practice or work at Village Kids. I don’t even know what I am doing until 2 p.m. – all I know is that my knowledge of daytime TV schedules is far more extensive than it was three years ago.

Pushing myself to go to both of my classes each day has become more and more of a chore. How is it possible that two and a half years ago I was sitting in class at 7:40 a.m., fully aware that I had six more classes ahead of me in that day alone?

But my laziness doesn’t stop there: when I am in my room at Wilder and the temperature is slightly uncomfortable, I can log on to campusfood.com, order Salvatore’s and immediately free myself from a trip to the Pit. Sure, it goes on my credit card, but I manipulate myself into thinking that that’s better than a 10 minute walk. Weekends roll around and I go out less and less, as I know all that the frat quad has to offer me, and, at this point, it’s not worth the 12 minute walk from Wilder. In high school, I stopped at nothing to find the party – driving around for hours, calling everyone from A-Z and meeting at Store 24 countless times only to find the same people over and over. These days, I will happily settle for movies and wine with my friends. The frat quad will be there next weekend.

I must confess, I have not completely wasted the first two and a half of my four years here and have found a number of ways to get involved on campus and with my classes, but I have still managed to turn much of my newfound freedom into laziness.

Lewis is a member of the class of 2008.



Notes by Nadia: The myth of summer vacation

Summer vacation is no longer a vacation.

An open letter to all members of any university community

I strongly oppose the proposed divestment resolution. This resolution is nothing more than another ugly manifestation of antisemitism at the University.

The Clothesline Project gives a voice to the unheard

The Clothesline Project was started in 1990 when founder Carol Chichetto hung a clothesline with 31 shirts designed by survivors of domestic abuse, rape, and childhood sexual assault.