Six months ago, I was destined to attend a top notch East Coast University. During high school, I spent several Saturday nights at my desk writing English papers, which were preceded by “fun-filled” days of History reading and cramming for the three tests my teachers was to give on Monday. If my life had consisted of only schoolwork, then perhaps I wouldn’t have had to schedule sleep time into my weekly calendar.
School was not my life, but instead merely a tiny facet of it. Tossing in a couple of handfuls of extracurriculars, friends and relationships, I never got eight hours of sleep a night. To me, it was all worth it. You see, I was doing everything necessary to get into any college I desired, according to all of the “So You’re Going to College” books I somehow managed to have time to read. I would be fulfilling all of my dreams within a matter of months.
A change of plans.
