As you can probably tell (because I'm writing this post), the first week wasn't that intense. It was sort of a gradual easing from the freedoms of summer to the world of powerpoints and lecture chairs with the folding pseudo lap board that always collapses at the most embarrassing possible time.
My med school classmates are, of course, a wide range of personalities, but one thing that is utterly striking about going to school with med students as opposed to college students is that the bell curve for timeliness has shifted from being centered about "on time" to minimum ten minutes early. It's a bit unnerving, at least someone who always tries to walk in the door precisely at the stated class time - not early but never more than a few minutes late - to find that I'm one of the last people there. I suspect that class attendance will drop precipitously as the semester continues, however.
It's really hard to gauge how difficult things are. Some people are holed in their dorm rooms studying every moment (apparently); others seem to not even have opened their notes. The faculty spent the first week reminding us that we're on pass-fail and that we should be sane and have lives, do thing we enjoy, and work in teams on our work.
I was on top of my work for all of three days, but by Thursday things started to fall apart. I haven't been killing myself by any means, but things are definitely picking up speed.
But I must admit I am enjoying myself immensely. I dearly enjoy research and self-study, but there is something to be said to having knowledge handed to you on a silver platter.
Why?
[continued in next post]
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