I’m sure we are all familiar with the nightmare that is parking at UC San Diego. Yet, as a newbie to living off campus, I underestimated just how terrible it really is. I have come to realize that driving to class evokes anxiety levels equivalent to an animal being hunted for sport (not being dramatic at all). In light of this, I thought I’d share the humbling experience that has now made me Pronto’s biggest fan. 

1:09 p.m.

With a 10-minute drive from my apartment, I arrive on campus with almost an hour to search for parking to make it to my 2 p.m. class. Pulling into Hopkins, I feel a pit in my stomach seeing how packed the parking structure is. I enter the structure and look up to find ‘S SPOTS: 0’ on the screen above me. I circle around once just in case I miraculously find someone pulling out, but to no avail. Keeping up my hopeful attitude with what I thought was an abundance of time, I decide to try my luck at Pangaea instead of hopelessly circling Hopkins. 

1:23 p.m.

I make my way down to the bottom three floors, hoping to find an S spot. Passing rows and rows of cars, I almost think my eyes are deceiving me when I see one spot open in the corner. Right as I turn my wheel to pull in, a red BMW speeds in front of me, blocks the spot, and backs in. I don’t consider myself to be someone who gets road rage, but the anger I feel in this moment is so intense that I cannot stop myself from honking at him (multiple times) and glaring him down while internally yelling at him. Despite this incident, I calm myself down and try my best to not lose it when I can’t find another spot, assuring myself that I still have plenty of time left.

1:35 p.m.

I start to get antsy with less than a half hour until class. Leaving Pangaea demoralized, I head over to Gilman. 

1:44 p.m.

At my third parking structure of the day, I tell myself that if I don’t find a spot, I will be taking the L and just heading home, because at this point, I’m stressed, upset, and have lost the motivation to keep looking much longer. I give up on finding an S spot, willing to settle for literally any available spot. 

1:46 p.m.

My anxiety begins to ramp up with less than 15 minutes left until class. I’m on the verge of a breakdown. And then, I see it: a beautiful ‘A’ spot that I’m definitely not allowed to park in. I manage to make it into the space without it being stolen despite the multiple cars circling around. 

1:51 p.m.

Upon parking and making it out of the garage, I take a brisk walk across campus to Seventh College for my class in Rady School of Management, which I will most definitely not be on time for. There’s nothing I despise more than walking in late to a class and everyone turning to look at me while I scan for an open seat. 

2:06 p.m. 

I make it to class, out of breath, sweaty, and absolutely disheartened. All I can think about as I listen to my professor drone on and on is that I never want to drive to school again. 

6:42 p.m.

After class, I head to the library to study (tell my friends about my parking fiasco). After a few hours, I decide to head out, with my spirits having been lifted after laughing about my misfortune with my friends. But it all comes crashing down when I arrive back at my car to the dreaded yellow envelope sitting on my windshield. At this point, I feel like I have been personally victimized by Transportation Services. On top of the emotional turmoil it took to even get a spot, I now had to pay $65 for it. 

While it may have been my fault for trying to drive to school in the middle of the day during the first three weeks of the quarter, this experience was truly an emotional rollercoaster and one I’m sure most students can relate to. While I am lucky enough to be able to take the bus these days, this is not feasible for everyone. If you are one of these students, I truly sympathize with you and wish you the best of luck.