The Life Cycle of CNS Students: As described by eggs
SOPHIA TRAN The more I think about my college experience, the more I can see parallels between life itself and the biology of our being. It seems that no matter what we do, our lives seem to follow some unexplained, natural process that is as old as time itself. We fall into rhythms and cycles that seem to subconsciously dictate our actions, thought processes, and psyches. But we never really stop and look at how life itself is a process on a microscopic scale that mimics classical phenomena, much like how fractals convey specific patterns no matter the scope of the image, or how high the resolution. Such abstract concepts only exist in my deep thoughts, as I lay in bed at night and consider my human existence (do I think because I am, or am I me because I think?), or as I stare at a paper Chipotle bag, chewing a tortilla chip that has slightly too much salt on it, with hopes that the next won’t be quite as salty because it clashes with the guacamole.
To properly examine a concept that lies much in my ability to allegorize, further simplification is needed. One singular process I have noticed in my time at UT is the presence of a life-cycle in students. One of the merits of resorting to descriptions-a-la-Buzzfeed is that things that can’t be easily described are now easy to do so. With eggs. Because why not?
Hardboiled: We all know how this goes. Bright-eyed freshman, walking into class fifteen minutes early, color-coding notes while sitting in the front row. There’s no tenderness. How else are you going to get into medical school unless you have a 4.0 GPA? You have a mean face. Embrace it because it makes you look competitive. Look serious because you want people to take you seriously. The world is your oyster and oysters are meant to be eaten. Childlike innocence is a wondrous thing. Believing you can conquer the world in your first 15 minutes on campus is a tangible feeling. Hold onto that feeling for as long as possible, honey.
Poached: I’d like to take the time to coin what I call the Big Sophomore Epiphany.
“Freshman year was the worst year of my life”
“I was such a loser back then”
“I studied all the time”
Surely by now you’ve had some experience. The heated climate of the world has only tempered your personality. Call it a humbling experience. On the whole you’ve loosened up, your core is goo and you’re happy to say so. You begin to realize that the world doesn’t just exist in school. There’s orgs, there’s friends and social obligations. There’s just being happy. The initial ignorance of your youth is retreating back into some dark closet with your One Direction posters and box-set seasons of Pretty Little Liars. You’re practiced. You’re fluid and soft. Because everyone else is like that. So get out there and do you, goo.
Sunny-Side Up: By now it’s junior year and you have things to worry about. Your life is thrown into the fire (or the stove) and you’re being cooked. Slowly but surely. And you’re doing everything in your power to remain calm. I’m fine. This is fine. And for a while it is. You see adulthood on the horizon, but would much rather hold onto the goo of your youth, until the very last drop has solidified into something as tough as the MCAT books collecting dust under your bed. You are in fact looking at the sunny side, because the underside is so much more real that it scares you.
Scrambled: Senior year: All semblance of order has gone out the window. The future is coming fast, and at any minute, you’re going to be taken off the fire and plated; ready to serve. Life is chaotic. Interesting and tasty, but chaotic. But there’s variety. Possibilities for new opportunities that only come when you’re in your final form. Throw in tomatoes. Throw in cheese. Throw in onions. Throw in whatever you want and become the most unique breakfast taco you can think of. Or migas. Migas is good too.
So what stage of the cycle are you at? All in all, it shouldn’t matter. The one egg you were as a freshman will be the same egg you graduate as, only the form will be different. So embrace it. Change is a good thing. So let’s all have a buttered toast to that.