Berkeley

I was walking around Berkeley's campus and I was awestruck. The buildings were awesome and the area is just enticing. It's also fun to know that bums- tons of them- live among Berkeley students. There's a lot of them everywhere. Carlisle recounts how he always walks to class- from the Bart station to his building- and how his OChem class is- about 400 students, huge screens, huge boards, and a single omnipotent lecturer. I've painted my own picture of me at Berkeley. I felt that I belong here. I felt at home.

And it really sucks looking back.

Tracy Ukita, my transfer counselor, and Marco Angulo, one of my revered med student-mentor have always encouraged me to go to UCLA or Berkeley. They knew I'd flourish. They knew I'd be able to more than survive. They knew I'd thrive. With those things in mind, they gave me a homework- visit those schools, get a feel for it, and apply.

I didn't do my homework.

Why? I've always downplayed myself. I thought I'd be crushed by the competition. I assumed I wouldn't get enough financial aid. I assumed I wouldn't like the campuses because they're too far from home. I was afraid. I held myself back. And again, I have successfully dug my own pothole of regret.

And now, I am beating myself up over it. A lot of should have, would have, and could have. A lot of wondering. A lot of daydreaming.

If it's any consolation, this person I hold close to me gave me her take on it. I'm where I'm at for a reason. I just don't know what yet. And I still hold on to that thought amidst the deep regret I feel.