It is 10:15 a.m. on Saturday, and I am hung over. My roommate felt the need to bumble around the room early this morning, waking me up in the process. Normally, I would curse him and fall back asleep, but my bubbling stomach pains would not allow this–the sleep, that is; I could still curse my roommate with enthusiasm. But now with this unforeseen time on my hands, I found myself at the keyboard, reflecting on what was and what could have been.

Coming into this year, I had a few goals for myself: get an internship for the spring, meet more people and become more socially involved. Well, the school year is drawing to a close, and I’ve failed in my ambitions, only to realize that failing was the best thing that I could do for myself.

Since I was a junior in high school, I had planned and expected to start a co-op program during my sophomore year, thus ensuring me a job when I graduated. Even then, there was not a question in my mind that I would get one; it was simply a matter of which one I would choose to go to from the multitude of companies that would value my presence on their workforce. I joined engineering societies; I took positions on executive boards; I threw myself into schoolwork, all to give myself a resumZ that could not be overlooked. It was overlooked. I ended up not getting an internship for this spring, but instead gained more than any internship could offer.

As secretary for the SAE Aero Design Team, I gained valuable knowledge of an airplane, even in miniature form, that no class could ever teach me. As assistant Arts and Entertainment editor, I was able to live out some hidden fantasies of interviewing my favorite bands and artists, as well as to temporarily step outside my Parks College world of engineers and physicists and be around people who would rather talk about literature and politics than the new Pratt and Whitney turbofan that is supposed to have revolutionary afterburning capabilities. It is a release that I cannot overstate.

I am not a gregarious person, nor someone who seeks out new and exciting social activities. This year was going to be different, though; I was going to put myself out there at long last and become the socially adept person I always knew I could be. Didn’t happen. I hung around with the same people I did last year, with little exception. Those very few times when I did venture out of my shell, however, I didn’t find anything that I wanted. The parties with my small group of friends were infinitely more interesting and lively than the sorority events and keggers that I’ve attended. Honestly, who has a good time having to introduce themselves all the time? At this point, I would much rather catch up with friends I haven’t seen all week than make small talk with some stranger, all the while knowing that neither of us would remember each other or the insipid conversation we had. I guess I’m just doomed to have a small group of really close friends rather than the ocean of minor acquaintances that I thought I had to have.

Knowing then what I know now, I probably wouldn’t have set such lofty goals for myself, resigning myself to failure. Yet, if I hadn’t tried, I wouldn’t have discovered what my goal should have been all along: Don’t be afraid to fail–gloriously.

Drew Ewing is a sophomore studying aerospace engineering.