The beginning of this year was different than the past two.
There was less uncertainty and anxiety, and considerably more confidence — but the difference was bigger than that.
Solidifying my major was a great feeling, but the realization that last week was my second-to-last FDOC hit me like a ton of bricks.
During my junior year of high school, I knew exactly what I needed to do to be admitted to UNC.
Well, I knew as much as I could. What scores I needed, what skills I needed to groom, the people who were going to help me apply the following year — I had all of it down to a tee.
Entering my junior year of college, I feel like I know nothing except my name, class schedule and the operating hours of Starbucks. I mean, I know that I know a little more now, but I’ve never been so unsure before.
UNC was my “sure thing,” the dream I always had and the accomplishment I couldn’t wait to achieve.
For the first time in my life, I don’t have a clear-cut vision of where I’ll be in two years, and I only have a vague idea of where I want to be.
It’s crunch time.