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.