The rain welcomes us home and we are wet traipsing from class to class, soaked to the bone because we forgot our umbrellas. Again. Is that just me? It’s slippery in the hallway outside Cox computing and I think to myself that my bag is too heavy and it’s only day three, day four, how am I already behind?
Is it a senior thing? Was I like this years ago? Coming back to Atlanta and landing at Hartsfield Jackson is a surreal experience for me, if not because I’m travel tired then because this is the last time I’m coming home here. This is the last first day of school, my last add/drop/swap. I’m going to miss add/drop/swap. Is that bizzarre? I wouldn’t have said that as a freshman, when registration was still stressful and I was at the bottom of the totem pole when it came to overloads and Fitness Yoga.
There is a new batch of international students, and I drove some of our beloved monks to school on Thursday. It was raining hard that morning, and we have the kind of Atlanta rain that splashes us sideways, doesn’t it. Farmer’s Market in the rain. Lunch in the rain. Slip and slide when they’re cutting down branches of the big DUC hill trees, around the caution tape. Up and down familiar hills and Chick-fil-a. Cox hall sushi. Due dates and midterms and seminars and haven’t we just begun? Welcome back.
– By Chloe Olewitz
The Emory Wheel was founded in 1919 and is currently the only independent, student-run newspaper of Emory University. The Wheel publishes weekly on Wednesdays during the academic year, except during University holidays and scheduled publication intermissions.
The Wheel is financially and editorially independent from the University. All of its content is generated by the Wheel’s more than 100 student staff members and contributing writers, and its printing costs are covered by profits from self-generated advertising sales.
