Tomorrow I start medical school. Yes, I have already made my first cuts on our cadaver — and yes, I have already been living in New York for 19 days. But tomorrow, the 20th day, I will sit down in my first real lecture, experience my first real “information glut,” and maybe then all of this will begin to feel real.
To say that I’m terrified will be a lie. It was the move to New York City that was scaring me the most — a month ago I was near tears quite a couple of times, not just because I was entering a world I never imagined I lived in but because I was leaving a lot of important people behind. There were definitely a few times in all of this mess that I thought to myself, Did I just make a huge mistake choosing Columbia P&S over Baylor?
But it turns out that it’s okay. I like my apartment. My cat is adjusting fine. Yes, there’s a dude who’s been smoking in his apartment across the hall since last evening, but I’m going to give him a few more days to get his life together before I complain. I’ve met a billion people (only a slight exaggeration) and only disliked 1. Hopefully people didn’t dislike me. You get the drift.
After all of that, classes seem to me like they’re going to be a breeze. I know they’re not, not really, but I have one evening where I can sit back and relax, preview my material, and be excited for what is to come.