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Thank goodness for milkshakes

I’ve been trying to write this, whatever this will be, for days. Usually, writing for the Wave is cathartic. Easy. I gather some thoughts, toss them in a blank document, mix them up a bit, and presto, a coherent column!

But today, my luck has run dry. I think I broke my writing organ. Y’know, that little squishy thing between your parietal lobe and temporal lobe that makes words into sentences and sentences into columns for the newspaper.

Earlier today, a handyman with a wispy goatee stopped by to inspect my broken closet door. He pulled out some hinges, screwed some bolts, and left to check his inventory for closet parts. I should have asked him to check for writing parts as well.

I’m in a bit of a funk. It happens to everyone, I’m sure.

I don’t know what brought it on. I suppose I wouldn’t be writing this if I did. One minute, everything was beautiful and there were free cookies everywhere, and the next minute, my desk was covered with problem sets and essay deadlines.

Upon further deliberation, I think the gloom and doom settled in last Wednesday. I was working on my chemistry lab report when I ran across ambiguous directions that included the words ‘abscissa’ and ‘ordinate’. Abscissa and ordinate? What?

Like a logical human being, I looked them up in the dictionary. Abscissa and ordinate means the x and y-coordinate. In the most complicated terms, the lab manual instructed that I construct a graph.

So naturally, I did no such thing. Instead, I threw my papers in the air and screamed at the ceiling fan about the absurdity of college lingo. With two obscure words, I was done for. The realization that I was in college finally sunk in. So did the realization that there was no going back.

It’s strange — I spent the entire last year craving independence and now that I have it, I miss the perks of being a kid. I tried so hard to leave Minnesota and now that I’m out, I miss the chill. I miss being able to wear cardigans and jeans and scarves without melting into a puddle of sweat. I miss bothering the brother and driving to Central Market and rollerblading with friends.

This transition into sort-of-adulthood has been harder and odder than I expected. I’m sure that the shock from the heat, the academic load, and the revelation that I’m totally a Hufflepuff will fade in time. Everything does, in time.

(Breaking news: The roommate just brought me a milkshake. The world is good again. Quarter-life crisis averted!)

Goeun Park graduated from Detroit Lakes High School and attends college in California.

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