It’s like coming to a new planet and discovering that all the guidebooks were right in saying the food is delicious and the water is bad. And your mother was right in telling you to pack a pillow for the plane ride because otherwise you’ll get a stiff neck. And your Uncle Ned was right in saying you were an idiot for going at all…
College is not only over, but the summer after graduation is chilling off into pumpkin-scented, maroon-coated, sweater-hawking autumn.
And I’m standing at the edges, realizing I am so different…and so is everyone else.
How did this happen, again?
The world was spinning for the last six years because of college study and now, the books on the shelf don’t give half a damn if they get read and the box of 3X5 cards in my left-hand drawer (that I knew I would run out) of are moldering through the months- as blank as my mind.
The kid I nannied went back to school and so did I- working in an office, pushing papers and other people’s money across a magnetic field of vision that included a friend of mine (at the desk next to me) who I was praying I didn’t kill before Christmas.
Where did I go?
I knew who I was a few months ago (…I think) and how I fit in this world. I was completely comfortable hauling in the student discounts and waving off less-than-ideal dates with the ever-ready: “sorry dude. Homework.”
I asked my roommate if I was really as mean as I felt inside and instead of telling me, “no, no, you’re fine.” she said, “I think it’s just a stage you’re going through…I hope.”
I can always count on her to tell me what she thinks.
Well, Dorothy isn’t in Kansas anymore and she somehow lost her ruby slippers and can’t see the color gold and is now allergic to tin and lion hair and straw.
…or at least, that’s what it feels like.
Maybe it has something to do with change.
Or college students looking more and more like children. With expensive phones. And no idea that the best professors retired while they were still in highschool algebra class.
Or the fact that bills don’t care if you have a college degree or a week-old box of raisins in the cupboard.
Or the fact that more of my friends are now having babies than still want to go to Six Flags for a weekend.
So, the autumn air creeps into the city on leafy feet and I’m stuck with my fingers wrapped around a lovely, full, crazy summer that I’d rather not let go of.
But I have to.
So what did I do?
I started a blog.
(…now where’s that roommate’s box of chocolate I saw her buy last month…)