"We really don't try to kill you."
Truer words were never spoken in my four years at Wellesley.
I started Wellesley all nice and idealistic. I was going to be an English and Spanish double major, and I was going to do every activity imagineable. I would study and be diligent and everything would come my way.
Yeah, right.
The plans for a double major went out the cliched window sophomore year when I realized nearly everyone in the Spanish department -- student and faculty -- was fluent. And I wasn't.
Doing every activity imagineable was dropped early, when I realized I'd rather be sane and committed to two activities as opposed to running myself ragged going from one activity to another. So I did choir and yearbook, and ran myself ragged going from one to another.
And we're not even going to talk about the diligent studying thing. I was a good student, but I certainly wasn't "That Girl." Being "That Girl" is overrated.
Now I'm an alumnae admissions representative for the college. That scares me. Apparently they actually trust me to convince other students to go to Wellesley.
