"I can still remember my first night in the dorms. After saying goodbye to my teary mom in the garage of my home in Vancouver, Washington, and driving for twelve hours with my dad and brother, I was left alone in my dorm room--719 S Hall. My roommate had already moved in. Her bed was draped with a Finding Nemo comforter, her walls were covered with posters, and her computer and new school supplies were strewn across her desk. My desk was empty, my walls were empty, and my blue suitcases sat in the center of the room. I sat down at my desk, put my head in my hands, and I cried. I didn't feel ready for the change; I didn't want to start classes the following monday; I didn't want to meet my roommate; I didn't want my life to change. I felt completely overwhelmed, and I felt completely alone. I cried for an hour, and not just small tears that fell slowly from my eyes, but chocking, short-of-breath sobs. All I can say is that I'm glad my roommate didn't come home that night."
On a scale of one to embarrassed how should I feel about someone having to grade this mess? I'm trying to imagine some poor Religion TA having to sift through this. It did, however, end on a high note (it was a religion class), and I got a 10/10 (religion class).
As sad as it was to move away from my 65-degree bedroom and a full fridge to an A/C-less apartment with no food, the second move from home was a little less emotional. Instead of leaving my teary mother in the garage, she whisked away after helping me move my stuff in, probably relieved that I'll stop eating all her food. There were no tears. No anxiety. And I'm pleased by how quickly my living-on-my-own skills have fallen back into place. It's like I've always been eating dry cereal and fruit snacks. And have always been living without internet. And have always been spending money like crazy on things like "rent" and "a mattress."
Comparing this move to my first, it's nice to realize that at least some things have changed in the past eight years.
Though, yesterday as I was walking down the sidewalk to my house, a guy sitting on his front porch said "Hey!" Thinking this was a friendly neighbor trying to get to know me, I cheerfully turned and said "Hello!" only to then see the phone in his hand.
I've still got it.
3 comments:
S-Hall, 7th floor. Good times. We can't ever go back (thank goodness!)
I love spending money on things like "a mattress." My lil brother moved away from home for the first time this very weekend (he stayed with us before he could get into his apartment in LA today) and it brought back memories!
I love everything about this post, but especially the story about your friendly neighbor saying Hello. You've still got it!
Post a Comment