Dorothy
I just over twenty-four hours I will be re-entering the buildings I love and fear more than any other: Those known as The University. They house so much wisdom and intellectual force that one feels like one is experiencing a parallel reality, or visiting an exotic country where the books are heavier, the colour of the light is more muted, the air smells like a spice blended from dust and people and coffee and clouds and ideas. My last trip to this particular country turned out a miserable failure; I basically dug out the brand-name bohemian in me and sat downing cappuccinos the entire year. I have since learned, or at least realised, a thing or two about myself that will hopefully cause me to spend my opportunities more wisely this time around, but being aware of how much I yet have to learn about myself, I can't help but wonder: Will I get it right this time?

I am a smart girl; I always have been, and to a certain extent I have always been aware of it. Through the years I've had all manner of self-image issues to cope with, yet I can honestly say that I can't remember an extended period of my life during which I sincerely doubted the capacity of my mind. Its content, yes, but never its potential. I have very few good things to say about my experiences in public schools, but it has to be said that it helps to have the reassurance of a good mark at times when you spend your days worrying about whether or not the rest of you is good enough.

Being smart, though, somehow didn't quite cut it in the one place where I expected it would. I remember being shocked by how unnatural it felt for me to be walking the among hundreds of duffle coats on their way to the library, their intellectual watering hole. I was convinced that they knew something I didn't, that I had missed some kind of meeting where all new students were let in on the secret to successful studies, and told to just 'follow the advice, but for the love of God, act natural!' I basically spent the entire year trying to figure out where to start.

I'm not sure that a year in an academic coma has done me any good, but I like to think I have learned something about myself that will ease the process of learning just a little. I may not have a map pointing me in the right direction, but I have become a little better at using my head as a compass rather than a safe, and if I lose my way, I can just follow the duffle coats until I rediscover my very own yellow brick road. Hopefully, by the time I reach the end of it, I'll have figured out my wish.

And if it never ends, well, I'll just have to keep walking. I hear the views are lovely.