Author Archives: Eleanor Michotte

Last week, I lost my keys. I’d last had them in my suite, where I spent a day rummaging distractedly for them, half-expecting to see them at every turn.

I was told that you do things differently over here. You go in for juice cleanses and interval training and that sort of thing. But freshman year was largely the same as things are back home. Yes, I suddenly encountered people who work out. I even had the occasional sighting of that rare breed, the 6 a.m. runner. Still, most Yalies seemed sane. It was a year of Insomnia and FroCo food, of laughing about the freshman 15 at the week’s third Yorkside pit stop.