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People say that college is the best time of your life. I always told myself this when I sat over an unfinished newspaper layout at seven ‘o clock in the evening. I swear I felt like I lived at that place. It was the middle of my sophomore year, and I had stupidly gotten myself a job as co-editor of the school newspaper. I wanted to shoot myself right about then. It's not that I didn't like the job; it's just that I already had a huge responsibility as an officer in the Associated Student Body. My position in the ASB was that of a gopher. I often forgot what my actual title was—something to do with activities and projects—but I did everything. Although I appreciated the popularity the two positions gave me, I never had a chance to revel in my fame as I was always too busy with the responsibilities they demanded. Everybody knew who I was, even though no one really knew me personally. Sometimes I wondered if it was all worth it. But I was an admitted workaholic so I stayed a half hour more and finished.

I went home to a delightfully empty apartment. I could have saved a fortune by having a roommate, but I loved having a place all my own. Thank God because I needed to relax. I took a short nap and then forced myself to go workout at the college gym. I hated working out with a passion, but forced myself to do it everyday. It's not that I didn't like it once I got going, but it took a damn lot of motivation to get started, especially after a stressful day at school. It was nice to have a decent body from all the lifting, and jogging every weekend gave me endurance to get my through the long hours I put in at ...

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