November 17, 2006
I’ve picked one hell of a time to start changing my habits. I used to be the most diligent student, always completing assignments on time, always putting work before play. Now that I’m a senior and the light at the end of the tunnel is growing brighter and larger, I seem to be getting uncharacteristically explorative in terms of my extracurriculars. This isn’t to say that my grades are slipping or that I’m less dedicated to learning; I still work hard, I’ve just learned to play harder. Lately I’ve been availing myself of Hamilton’s deep pockets and numerous resources. I think it may have something to do with that light and tunnel I mentioned, which is eerily similar to another light and tunnel I remember from twenty-one years ago. Twenty-one years ago, I was warm and happy when a dagger of brightness suddenly penetrated my amniotic paradise. I remember swimming upward and seeing a terrible latex claw reaching for my head. I tried to swim away but the claw was too fast. Had I known in the days leading up to my eviction from the womb how soon it all would end, I would have relished what precious little time remained.
Well, I’m not going to make the same mistake twice. Tonight I played squash, went rock climbing, listened to live jazz music, and read novels from three different centuries; quite an eclectic evening, the kind of evening that you probably won’t have unless you’re a student at a school like Hamilton. They say variety is the spice of life, and even though they are always spouting off clichés, they are usually right. Variety is important. I’m always envious of those elderly people you meet on cruises or bike tours, those people who make it their business to do absolutely everything. Where do they get the energy? What makes them get out of bed in the morning? If you asked me why I get out of bed in the morning, I’d shrug and say something about being young, or I’d answer “Why not get out of bed in the morning when you go to Hamilton College?”