“Isn’t there homework you should be doing.”
That sentence or variation of that sentence bounces around my skull at least once a day since graduation. With each passing day the voice gets quieter. In those quiet moments I have now I can still hear the voice reminding me or was it pressuring me that something was due or about to be due or shouldn’t I be doing something? I don’t know. I know I have no homework.
“Isn’t there an assignment due?”
Two nights ago I woke up in a cold sweat worried that I missed an assignment. I have no assigned work anymore. I won’t until after the move. I have things I want to do and the fact of having so much to do keeping me from doing all of them in a day is another post or three for a later date. My point, there is no school work seems to be lost on my brain.
“Did you study for that exam?”
What exam? Nobody is testing me for anything or about anything. People take my word now. I am a graduate. That means something. I spent the last five years obtaining a degree is what that means. Still people take my word and it feels nice not to get that raised eyebrow or “really?” after I say something. I’m not sure I could study for anything right now. I am done for a bit.
“There might be an important email. Check your college email?”
What the hell? Seriously voices in my head, shut up! I am done as an undergraduate. There is no important class or graduation related emails anymore. What if I was wrong? What if there is an important email waiting for me and I haven’t read it. And I find myself checking my college email. Are coupons to Buffalo Wild Wings important? Possibly.
“Who are those people moving in?”
Five years of watching move outs and more importantly move ins and I cannot break the habit. I used to be looking for the trouble makers, a life time of being a trouble maker has given me a keen eye for identifying them and I was not wrong once over the last five years. But I’m done. We are done. We are waiting to find a place. Waiting is the wrong word, but what else do you call that period between one place and another? I never found the right word, thus waiting. I don’t care who is moving in, even when some of them are carrying most of a hydroponic set-up for growing weed in a basement. Nope, I don’t care. I’m not supposed to be here. Yet, here I am and I can’t stop being here in more ways than one.
“Did you read that chapter?”
What chapter? What book? I tried to read a book for fun yesterday, but stopped when I pulled out a highlighter, pen, and pad of paper to take notes. Mission Earth does not have an exam at the end nor a lecture I need to refer to in order to get the most out of it. What the hell is going on? Have I been indoctrinated into a lifestyle or cult that I cannot yet escape?