You would think, after almost four and a half years of this, I wouldn’t think so anymore. But it’s weird. No depiction of college — stories you hear from your parents, sitcoms, books, the media, movies — is ever accurate. It’s not full of exams and all-nighters and overdue projects and nightmares about class, but it’s partly that. It’s not full of partying and drugs and alcohol, and lessons learned, but it’s partly that. It’s not full of new friends and experiences and the best part of your life, but it’s partly that. The best analogy I have is a burrito. A big, interesting burrito that takes four or five years to eat and another 10–25 years to digest (student loans, baby!). But it’s full of several things you like and maybe a few you don’t. And in this analogy, this burrito is an amazing, magical burrito, because no matter what, when you finish is, you’re a better person.

After 4 and a half years, it’s damn interesting to lean back and marvel at all the things you thought college might be like. I wish I’d made a list of all these things when I started college: what am I like when I graduate? What kind of career am I preparing for? Grad School? Where are my friends headed? Who are my friends? Are these lifelong roommates I’ll visit every couple years forever? Will I lose touch and never see anyone again? Who might I be dating? Am I in love? Am I married?! Am I even graduating?  How accomplished am I? Did I have trouble with partying at a party school? Did I have trouble with studying at a party school? Would I fall in love with the town or be ready to get the hell out after four years? Did I even graduate in 4? (I would not). Where am I going? New York? San Francisco? Paris? Asia, Australia, London?  Back home? How different am I?

Some of those have answers, others don’t. That’s not the point, though. The thing I’ve realized most in all my time in college is that these aren’t the right questions. The reason you’re in school is to graduate, get a degree, get a career, of course (It’s more than that but I’m generalizing). But the reason you’re in college, on the other hand, is to grow. Perhaps that’s a given. Perhaps I should have known that going in — although I don’t think I could possibly know. You learn to be your own person; to live on your own; to provide for yourself; to become who you are. That’s what college is about. It’s a regular part of life, a coming-of-age story, something almost everyone experiences. A humongous, delicious burrito.

But it’s f@#$ing weird.