"I have this sign in my office that says, 'This is college, not a day care center,' " the Advisor says to me over lunch.
I remember being eighteen in the fall of 2001, and sure my life was over because I was barely making C's in my classes. I had Parasitology in the classroom next to his office, so I saw him several times a week. Scared and alone, I would timidly walk up to him, always asking, "Are you busy?"
He would always answer, "Yes, but what's going on?"
I knew how serious the conversation was going to be by how far his office door was left ajar. Sometimes, he would close it completely. The Advisor always listened to me, patiently, as I talked about all my fears and anxieties and the pull of depression. He never said, "No, come back tomorrow or next week."
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