Blog Post #3 (My Average Day After 3 Months)
*If you can’t read the images, just click on them.
6 AM – It is a Monday morning. I wake up, shower, brush my teeth, get dressed, and then rush out the door. And so the cycle begins. I woke early every morning in high school for classes so I prepared for this, right?
I begin my journey to class by first making my way to the quiet train station around half past 6 in the morning. Dreary eyed with headphones on to block out any potential disruptions, I enter to train car—which is just about to pull off for its first stop—and then sit down. It pulls off and so begins my almost 2 hour trip—how enervating this can be. I gradually fall asleep. I wake up just in time to make my make my stop, Times Square-42nd Street. Rushing through the busy crowds, I hear the obnoxious bystanders, the people talking, the babies crying, and that guy who has no headphones to listen to his favorite song so he just memorized the lyrics and is singing them out loud; and then I take a quick glance at the usual homeless people and the musicians playing for tips as the hordes of morning zombies make their way to the trains and exits of the station. I keep walking.
“Oh look, the Jehovah Witness folk are here again.” It always seems like they never go home. Walking faster, I hop aboard the Grand Central bound shuttle train. It’s about two minutes ‘till take off. Trying to make haste, the train operator attempts to close the doors, but people don’t care about that, they’re still trying to storm the train cars like it’s the beaches of Normandy. After about half a minute of hassling, we’re off. Down at Grand Central, I transfer to the 6 train and ride that a few more stops. Emerging from the dimly lit cavern that is the subway, I am greeted by the warm rays of sunlight. I glance at the time on my phone. My eyes widen, I’ve got just six minutes to make it to class. I’ve got to hasten my pace if I want to make it. I fast walk past the half-naked human Statue of Liberty, who’s decided that wearing a diaper is the most fashionable thing to wear these days.
There’s no time to buy breakfast so I quickly run up the stairs and head to class. I glance at my phone again. It’s a minute past the time class is supposed to start. I open the door to a room full of droopy eyed students, who just like me, don’t want to be here. Some have their heads down, some don’t. And there’s one guy off to the corner preparing his daily list of stupid questions to ask in class. Who’s bright idea was it to make people do math this early in the day anyway?
The teacher fumbles with every sentence and can’t remember what he said two words ago; I’m probably only going to retain half of what I’ve heard here today. I sit back in my chair, headphones still on, and then space out.
I come back to my senses just in time to hear someone in the back interrupt the professor with a single phrase, “It’s time, sir,” the voice says calmly. The professor makes his closing remarks, encourages us to study, stops speaking, and then dismisses the class.
“Nice, I’ve got some hours to kill before the next class starts,” I say to myself. I head on over to the bagel shop nearby for some morning sustenance. I see somebody from class. Don’t want them to know I come here every day. Maybe it’s about time I found a new spot? Scratch that, it would be too much work.
After purchasing breakfast, I quietly eat my meal, and then I hurry on to the library. My favorite place on campus. Since it’s so early, there’s not too many people here and so it’s easy to find an unused computer in the computer lab.
I spend the next hour and a half catching up on the readings that I “forgot” to do over the weekend past. I glance at the time like I so often and characteristically do. It’s about that time again. I make my way to the next class and take a seat. The minutes roll by and the professor walks in and begins class. “Oh great, there’s a pop quiz today on the reading,” I think to myself sarcastically. “It’s a good thing I just finished it.”
After another 2 hours of lecturing, it’s time to migrate to the final and most loathed class of the day. I’ve been dreading this moment. The professor walks in and greets the class, “Hello,” he says with a strong foreign accent and begins his lecture. I can hardly understand this guy because of his accent and he seems to go on and on about nothing all day.
“At least one person is excited to be here,” I think to myself. “I’m not going to make it through this.” I set my phone alarm, put my headphones back on, and fall asleep. I’m gone—off to dreamland where analyzing the ideas of dead people are not so important anymore. Fast-forward three months, this has become my average routine. My average day on campus.
I am happy be here at Baruch. My time here has been much enjoyed. There is a great atmosphere that comes with it. An atmosphere that encourages intellectual development and provides great opportunities. And there’s almost always someone willing to help answer your questions or address your concerns. At first I thought waking up at six for morning classes would be just like High School. I thought I’d be prepared for it. Then I realized I was far from it. This is a very different experience, from classes to professors, especially the ones with strong accents. Some classes can be very daunting and will leave you constantly looking at the clock to see if its almost over. On the other hand, some classes can be very interesting and challenging. My only grievance is the grading policy of particular classes and how to manage my time more effectively. But these things get better over time, right?
