Coming to college in the South, my northern self was very excited for the weather change. I had this ideal view in my head of summer all year round with enjoyable temperate winters. While I have enjoyed the prolonged summers and the 75 degree days in February, for the most part, I couldn’t have been more wrong. When I came to school in August, walking to the mystical faraway North Decatur Road building felt like a trek through the Sahara. It was nearly impossible to look put together when I showed up to class looking like I had just finished a marathon. When summer persisted for a few months after school started, I found myself seasonally confused. I would pile on the layers for my 8:30 am class to find myself quite overdressed a couple of hours later.
My misinformed self thought that it doesn’t get really cold in the south, so I neglected to bring a real jacket to school in the summer and thought that I could hold out until Thanksgiving. You can probably guess that I was very wrong and found myself wearing sweatshirts at a time and generally avoiding the outdoors. Coming home for winter break, I was so excited to load up on sweaters and scarves so I would finally be ahead of the weather. Little did I know that after about a week or two of wearing all the sweaters that took up so much room in my suitcase, they became useless because of the increasingly humid weather.
The climate transitioned into what I know now as Atlanta Spring, the most unpredictable season of all. I never knew that it was possible to experience all of the four seasons in one week, but college has shown me that a lot of things are possible that I never thought before. I never pictured myself bolting through the pouring rain chasing after an Uber-Eats driver, but too many hours in the library will make a person do crazy things. I’ve learned how to do many things my freshman year, but one of the most valuable things that I have learned is to never think that you can predict the weather (and to invest in rain boots).