Monday
I looked in all of the cupboards for any kind of food. All I could find was a small container of crappy coffee and and a single box of disgusting and cheap looking microwave popcorn. I made a noise of disgust, turned on the coffee maker and plugged in the microwave. Bad food is better than no food.
While my “breakfast” was popping, went back to my room. There lay my trunk, untouched since I left it there four hours ago. Yawning, I flipped open the lid, looking at the mass of clothes and personal items that lay there. I dug through it, looking for my running clothes. My black boots with the faux-fur inside linings were starting to make my feet ache, as they usually do when I walk around in them too long. My dark blue American Eagle skinny jeans were starting to become too tight and confining, making me feel to restricted, not granting me the sweet freedom my running shorts did. The navy blue Hollister tee with the green bird logo on it (my favorite shirt) was just not cutting it right then.
I paused only a moment to open the black jewelry box my father had given me for my 10th birthday when I got my ears pierced. Inside were different insets for certain pieces of jewelry, and on the cover were professionally painted red and pink roses. It was about the size of a large shoebox. I opened it, taking off my diamond earrings, the clasps making a satisfying snapping sound before I tenderly placed the pieces of jewelry that had belonged to my great great great grandmother in the box. The earrings had been passed down from generation to generation, passed on from mother to daughter on her 12th birthday. I almost couldn’t wait until I could do the same thing in 20 or 30 some-odd years.
The microwave beeped and I went back to the kitchen. A few kernels popped in the bag as I pulled it out and a cloud of steam erupted in my face when I opened the bag.
“Phew!” I huff, holding the bag at arms reach. I set it down on the counter and wait for my coffee to brew. Once it was done I poured it into one of the large paper cups I had found in an another cupboard. It was piping hot, just the way I wanted it. Shame there wasn’t any cream or sugar.
I went back to my room and pulled on my black athletic shorts and an old long sleeved tee shirt from some big championship cross country meet my freshman year, stuffing little handfuls of popcorn into my mouth. I gulp down my coffee (it really was as bad as it looked and made me grimace as if I had swallowed a lemon). My new white and red running sneakers come out of their box and I was out the door, my campus map folded up and in my pocket.
Since it was morning, I had an easier time recognizing the sights around campus. Everything I learned on the campus visit was starting to come back. I closed my eyes for a moment and sighed, breathing in the chilly morning air, feeling and hearing the gravel crunch under my feet. My blood pumped harder and I felt like I could go on forever. I was so happy then. Nothing could have bothered me. There was a bright, rushing feeling in my chest, my heart burst with joy. It was so good to be running again! I had forever until my morning classes started, everybody else on campus was asleep and not staring at my eyes or teeth as I smile, and things really couldn’t have been better. For once, I actually thought that I could have an okay time there.
Ha. Yeah right...
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