It's been a few weeks since I graduated from college.
Some people may be sad to leave their friends and community behind, but graduation was just another weight lifted off my shoulders. No more homework, no more honors projects, no more long bus rides to campus, no more noisy twenty year olds... It couldn't get any better!
I had more downtime than ever, and though I'd love to sleep all day, play video games, and stream movies on my laptop, I still was responsible for going to my internship three days out of the week. And luckily it's a paid internship because these bills are no joke...
The record-breaking heatwave this summer gave me an excuse to stay inside most of the days. It's not like I had any friends to hangout with; and it's not like I need any. I enjoy being alone and doing what I want in the comfort of my apartment.
That's of course until my cousin decided to visit me for a week!
An ENTIRE WEEK!
She's lucky she's my only friend.
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I was lounging on the couch streaming the latest episode of Sky Castle when she called me out of the blue. We hadn't talked in a few months, us both being busy with school and all. She attended another university an hour away, one known for its prestigious arts department.
A dancer. That's what she's always wanted to be ever since we saw The Nutcracker as kids. The fifth time watching it she had all the ballet moves memorized and performed it for me and her parents.
Ha ha... she was always bold like that. She knew what she wanted even as a kid and went for it. Me on the other hand... I just can't seem to step outside my bubble. For better or worse, I guess.
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In the lobby, I peep inside my tiny gold mailbox and grab the envelopes inside: a bill, a restaurant coupon, and a letter from my parents. How sweet (she thought with much sarcasm). I appreciate letters and little texts from my parents every now and then -- it shows they care -- but I'd really prefer not to be bothered. Especially when all they ask about is whether or not I found myself "a man" or when I'll be starting an "actual job". I mean as if I'm not anxious enough... I'd really enjoy some space and time to figure out who this weird, anti-social girl is on the inside. Is that too much to ask?
I close and lock my mailbox, shuffling the mail in my hands and walking to the lobby elevator. My eyes spot every scuff mark and dried food stain on the black and white checkerboard tiles as my favorite pair of converse shoes guide me to my destination. A group of female students walk past practically forcing me to pass along the wall.
Seriously? Do they have to hog the entire hall?!
But I stay quiet, eyes down, keeping my complaints to myself.
