A couple of weeks ago, some cruel twist of fate caused the alarm on my phone to malfunction. Instead of waking up at seven-thirty to get to my eight thirty class on time, I remained in a snug dreamland until, to my horror, I awoke to see that it was eight twenty-five. I had only five minutes to get to class on time.
I sprang from my bed, cursing the heavens, pulled on a pair of leggings and a big hoody, (The comfy wintertime best-friends of any college girl) threw my hair into a scraggly ponytail, grabbed my backpack, and sprinted down the hallway in the frantic fashion of a woman pursued by a pack of ravenous hyenas.
When my wildly flailing legs delivered me at last down the four flights of stairs from my hallway and out through the front doors of Forrer, I discovered that not only was I potentially late, but it was also bitterly cold, and raining a rain so hard that it’s only purpose could be to further spite me.
But I didn’t have time for self-pity. I raised my hood and, across Broadway and through an obstacle course of lake-sized puddles, bolted at full speed for the steps of Haupt Humanities. I arrived in the classroom panting, dripping, and limping, but arrived, my friends, on time.
This may sound like a miserable situation. And at the time, no, I wasn’t exactly thrilled to be drenched, winded, and bed-headed in my FYS class that day, but this tale of woe actually illustrates one of the best things about being a Pioneer- the small campus size.
One of the fantastic things about Transylvania is that wherever you are on campus, you’re no more than seven or eight minutes from anywhere else on campus you could want to be. And while I don’t by any means condone waking up five minutes before class starts, if you do, you still have a chance to be where you want to be on time. And this also means that you spend a lot less time braving the elements- as the winter approaches, and the temperature drops, I find myself more and more thankful that I don’t have to walk for very long in the snowy coldness.
My friends at larger schools tell me horror stories about scaling massive hills in the rain, missing campus busses, getting lost, and arriving at class late- these are troubles I don’t have to deal with. I get short walks on flat ground to easy-to-find classrooms. And because I don’t have to worry about these things, I can focus my attentions more fully on things that really matter like grades, extra-curricular activities, and eating chicken strips (That Rafskeller…).
So I guess this story has two morals.
- Always be thankful for small campus size and
- Always double check that alarm clock.