to me. I also thought she worried too much. After all, I was eighteen years old and already graduated from high school. I had learned many things from books and I knew how to deal with different people. Her "you-are-still-a-little-girl" tone sometimes irritated me, and her doubt of my ability made me more eager to prove myself. Therefore with much confidence I left, like a young bird flying from the nest, without even looking back at its aging parents. College life was, as I had expected, full of exciting events and people. The innovative ideas and the wealth of knowledge of my professors and classmates impressed me. The city itself fascinated me with its freedom in the atmosphere and the exchange of the newest ideas in its small cafes. I observed my surroundings with hungry eyes, hunting for excitement, yet something else surprised me more. I found myself getting lost and my life a little out of control. In the morning there was no longer someone watching and making sure that I got up on time for the classes. I would wake up and find that my first class was over half an hour ago. Borrowing notes and making up missed work always made me feel that I was trying to catch an airplane by riding a bicycle. I also discovered that many things did not just "happen"; they had to be "done." At home, the only thing that I had to do with dirty clothes was to throw them into a basket. They would disappear automatically and then appear inside the drawers the next day--folded, clean and with the faint scent of fabric softener. Now the magic no longer worked. The pile of dirty clothes would just get higher and higher unless I carried them to the laundry room and fed the white machines some quarters. At home, a cold or a flu was nothing dreadful. When I was sick, I only had to transform myself into a three-year-old baby. Then if I wanted candies, candies would appear in front of me. If I needed a ...
