Ever since I started college, I've always wondered of the path that lay just beyond my head; the path that would lie ahead of me, whispering gently yet urgently into me ear, come here. Now, I can look on the other side of that vision and reflect on my progress so far. In short (and as always), what my mind conjures up does not translate into the rugged nature of "the real world."
I remember looking back during the semester, trying to hold onto everything I could find. When the notices finally started to come up later for opportunities to work on campus for stipends, I became ruthless. I had applied to almost every internship that I was even remotely eligible for, hoping that in some way, I would be rewarded for my extra effort. And I was. In my mind I had a clear picture of how everything would work; I would have a job that would captivate me at every second of the time there, survive well within my means inside an apartment, and have time to read and pursue any lingering interests that I had over the break.
My days (thus far) actually seem to be pretty similar to what I've beendoing throughout the schoolyear; only without the midday classes and excessive access to facilities, and instead replaced with a 9-to-5 job that focuses mainly with organizing materials (which surprisngly, becomes a bit exhausting easily).My work involves me spending the majority of my day sitting at a table and refoldering items and doing not much else. The dead atmosphere of the campus afterwards is what especially kills things; aside from a few buildings open, time itself seems stagnant, waiting for it to pass by while sitting in an apartment complex checking the news or staring at the ceiling in hopes that something will happen.
Sometimes, that "something" is me; being relatively "independent" (assuming when your family lives an hour away) is my way of trying to break away from the sense of passiveness I had when I was younger, letting other people take care of me while I could do whatever I wanted. Here, I have less time for such matters and now have to help focus on setting up a comfortable living space with my two roommates. I'm moving in ways that I never knew I could, yet at the same time I still see how far I am from being considered independent, or rather, functional as an adult. There's a difference between being able to help yourself in an academic setting and where it (argurably) truly counts; when you're trying to survive on a wage, collaborating ways to make the overall experience worthwhile. Maybe this is what I'll try to focus on for the next ten weeks or so.
The words "I can do this," keeps replaying over and over as I type this up, planning to go to bed within the next hour or so to wake up at 7:30 AM. I can do this. And hey, maybe I'll listen to a few podcasts while I'm at it.
