This
is the last week of school…which means exam week. All semester I’ve dealt with
a lot of stress. I have had mental health issues that mutated into school
problems, relationship problems and family problems. Now it comes down to this
week—the 17th week of the semester.
I
made a couple of new friends… Kasi and Carlos and Gloria but there are always
tradeoffs. Usually a good is neutralized by a bad. Of course I lost some
friends too. When I was sickest, I found out who cared… or at least could deal
with me.
Now
that my Freshman/Senior year is coming to a close, I am reflecting on the
person I was and the person I am. College living hasn’t been easy for me. I
started out hating my dorm room and my classes and all the stupid little
Freshman who didn’t know how to shut up at 2am. I went home almost every
weekend to see Andrew and my family. When the money I had saved from my summer
job ran out, it was time to find a new job. My parents can’t afford college any
more than I can and I understood that I needed to suck it up and go back to
work.
I
applied at a gas station in Sylva… the Mt. Breeze Mart across from Harold’s
Supermarket. I got the job… I worked every Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Even
though I usually only got 21 to 24 hours, school and a job felt like full-time
and a half. I hated my job at first. The owners seemed to have something against
me and so did the employees. It was miserable.
One
day, I think it was a Friday, the two women approached me. I thought that the
look on their faces was the “I’m getting ready to fire you” look. Actually,
they told me they were walking out and the new boss was coming in. 5 hours
later, he showed up.
His
name was (and still is) Hugh Thompson. Hugh Thompson has to be the best thing
that has happened to me while being at college. The first day he walked in he
introduced himself… then he told me he didn’t have a clue what he was doing. I
got off around 5 that day but I stayed around to help him. Hugh is an older
man, not quite old but not young.
All
I really did for him was set up his computer, stand up for him when the girls
at work gossiped about him and always came in when he called, but he gave me a
lot of hope about the way things were. I started loving my job. I was happy. I
wasn’t lonely on the weekends and I didn’t dread going to work. Eventually, I
started to look at him as family. I didn’t tell him until the day I quit… of
course I still go in when he calls me. He wrote me a small thank you which was
stapled to my “last” check. I have it hanging in my car.
Though, this isn’t really about Hugh. I started
writing this blog to talk about college and work.
I felt I had a
different perspective. I realized I wasn’t “them.” Whoever “they are.” I knew
that I was a lot older. Not chronologically… but mentally. Really, I was just
being prideful and setting myself up as being better than them. I hated their
partying, their stupid games in the hallways and the fact that I couldn’t say a
word without anyone on my hall NOT knowing what was going on.
I may have been
an adult then, but I think I have learned what an adult is now. I have taken
care of 90% of my expenses since March 2011. I got my first job, first car and
moved away from home. Of course I’ve been sick… and it skewed my perception a
little. Maybe not skewed from where I had been but placed me on the other side.
I started to be the one that was making the mistakes.
Today, I packed
up my things to go home. I have joked with Carlos and other friends that all I
own in the world fits into my Jeep in a single trip. The girls on my hall (both
the one in Walker Dorm and then in Scott Dorm when Kelly and I moved) came to
move-in day August 19th 2011 with truckloads of clothes and all
sorts of stuff I didn’t have. I wasn’t jealous. I was more amazed at the magic
they had to conjure up to fit all their crap in a 10x10 jail cell.
I packed today
because I needed some motivation. Packing is one step closer to moving to my
new house or apartment in a week or two. Carlos was studying while I packed. It
took less than an hour: about the time to fold two loads of clothes at my house
in Conover. It fit in about 6 beer boxes and a half filled plastic dresser. I
almost cried. It was one of those moments when something obvious comes to you
out of nowhere.
I am starting
out my own life and starting out small. I have a few clothes, mostly pajamas. I
have my computer. I have 3 pairs of shoes, 3 pillows, 2 hula hoops a television
set and two lamps to my name. The bulk of my stuff was books. I had a lot of
books and school supplies. They took up two boxes. Two out of the 6. I almost
cried but didn’t. It’s scary. One, I realized that there is some transition
that is happening with or without my permission and two, it’s hit or miss at
this point.
I know I don’t
have that many readers but I was hoping that the underclassmen at my High
School would appreciate this. Maybe they will. I know I would have liked
someone to give me an idea of what college actually is.
It’s not just
classes and studying in the library. It’s not all party and drinking either.
Transition is the best word. The traditional Freshmen I live with haven’t hit
that point yet… but I am 19 years old and am graduating college December 2012.
I just graduated High School in May 2011. Where I am now in life is a place
where I still have my parents to call on when I need them but am standing on my
own two feet.
I hope that
someone can benefit from this. I am not a straight A student. Actually, I have
never made straight As…not one time. I am neither a bad kid nor a saint. I am not
a genius by any means. And even though I act like it when I speak to people, I
don’t have it all together. I really don’t have a clue what I am going to do
with my life. I always felt like I was running out of time. I started going to
college at 14. I wanted to be a Forensic Anthropologist and stuck with it. I
knew when I was getting a job. More recently, I felt like I had to marry
Andrew, find a home, find a grad school and work a full time job like an adult.
Now I’ve lost all those things. Including the motivation.
Now, 5 years and
3 weeks later, I am okay with not knowing the next step.
