You know, I really envy all of you college freshmen out there. But at the same time, I feel sorry for you. You're just starting out, getting accustomed to your new living quarters, roommate(s) and most importantly, your classes. Things couldn't be any simpler for you. You probably still think that these professors are going to be your best friends and life is gong to be more exciting than it's ever been. And for the most part, that description turns out to be pretty accurate. Your professors want to help you whenever they can, giving assignments with reasonable deadlines, you join a crap ton of clubs, make new friends, work out at the local gym whenever you can, and actually manage your time relatively well. Then, before you know it, freshman year has reached its end and summer has finally arrived. You've already signed up for your next set of classes for the upcoming semester of sophomore year, but you aren't worried about it too much. Freshman year was pretty much a breeze, sophomore year shouldn't be any--

BOOM! Summer's over, you're moved back into your school and already being thrown into the fray. You realize that the supervisors in charge of your textbooks are total flakes and keep you in suspense by keeping several of them out of stock. You take a look at your classes and realize one of them is an eight week earth science course and you already have late six assignments and seven more that are due by the end of the week. You ask your professor for some help, but all they ever do is curve you so fiercely that you actually leave the conversation knowing LESS than you did going in.

Then there's the class you still don't have books for, which you really need because you're already two weeks behind and aren't sure what to do do about it because your freaking books aren't with you!

And then there are the clubs. Oh yeah, you totally forgot about those, didn't you? All of those clubs you so voraciously signed up for last year are starting back up again, stacking on even more commitments on top of what you already had. It'd be so simple if you could just leave them, but you know that if you did, since you know everyone in them, that they'd never let you live it down. So now here you are, stuck with crappy classes, club commitments and textbooks that are still on back-order. You haven't seen your family in weeks because all of the work you've been doing and have hardly even left your room, spoken to anybody, slept, or even eaten. Now you're sitting at your desk, typing furiously on your computer, venting your frustrations on some writing account for an organization you interned for last year, because in all honesty, it's really the only thing in life that you enjoy anymore, as well as the one thing out of all your commitments that you can accomplish in under an hour.

Phew! And now that you got all of that off your chest, you're starting to feel a bit lighter and better about yourself. The world is starting to slow down a bit, and your typing is getting more mellow as your article goes on. You begin to feel that maybe things won't be so bad anymore, that maybe, if you try hard enough, you'll be able to make it. Then you realize you're only two weeks in and have several more to go before you can get rid of these classes. Your typing becomes frantic again, your thoughts in a thousand places, yer wrds jeembled ip nd unreedble, and that little bit of hope you'd just regained fizzles out and never returns. Now, the only thing on your mind is trying to figure out a good way to end your article. You contemplate just leaving it as is, as a hopeless situation, or ending it with a shred of positivity, because readers always go for the articles with the happy endings. So after about twelve unnecessary minutes of deciding, you choose to go with what you want, because let's face it, if you don't give a crap about yourself and what you want, who will? So you

make a new paragraph without meaning to, but you're on a roll so it doesn't really matter all that much to you, and go with the ending YOU want to make, because "you is kind, you is smart, and you is important." Sophomore year is where all dreams go to die. If you're able to make it out unscathed, you aren't human--doubtful you're even of this world! There WILL be times where you want to rip out all of your hair, times where you just want to flip a desk and go rogue on all of your professors that never seem to realize you have classes aside from theirs. There might even be an instance or two where you just break down and cry. So enjoy your freedom while you can, freshmen, because life is a giant black void that swallows up anyone that tries to live it the way they want. That's basically sophomore year in a nutshell. But hey, at least there's still junior and senior year, right?