My Choice as a Newly Minted Adult

While at Emory University, trying to earn a B.A. and qualify for medical school, I happened on a required history 101 course. That was in the last quarter of my freshman year. I vaguely recall it covered the early part of the history of Western Civilization.  I vividly recall it was my first “A” in college.

I couldn’t analyze my way out of a wet, one tissue, layer mask. But, I could have memorized the first ten pages of the Atlanta phone book (then).

There was no thinking in that course. You just had to take good notes and memorize them completely. At 18, I could actually hear clearly the rapid-fire lectures that burst forth from our prof. In order to avoid anxiety-driven mistakes or complete panic, I reviewed the notes five to ten times before the test and actually got a full night’s rest, while, the rest of my dormitory buddies in the class began studying when I fell asleep.

I not only benefitted from the rest, but also, my buddies suffered from trying to study over my snoring bellowing across the hallways. I also was rewarded for choosing history as my major, as, I loved its breadth and what it did to my overall grade point average. Sometimes things actually fall into place.