It’s 7:28 p.m. on a Tuesday and I’m drinking a diet coke. I have Just My Imagination stuck in my head. I’m sitting alone in my university apartment, facing a window; a lot of cars are passing by. Every now and then there are unusual screams or laughs and I always wonder what they are. I’m in my fourth year of college now so I have a lot of my precious personal items here with me: my guitar, my books, nail polish, blankets. I used to go home to be surrounded by the things I love and now they are all here. I don’t have a lot of work to do tonight; surely I could, and will, do something, but the details of my night relax me. Some light biochemistry reading, maybe a load of laundry. A shower? Guitar? Something lovely and soft to round out my night like a cup of tea and an old classic movie might be in store a little later.
It’s these nights I want to remember when I’m older. I want to remember the tied bandana lying on my yoga mat lying on my Persian carpet. I want to remember wearing my big chunky sweater and always having my eye on my iPhone so that I might see if I receive some snapchat from some friend doing something else far or not so far away. I want to remember my twin sized bed, the way it feels when I get the opportunity to nap on it like I did today, unexpectedly and upside down. I want to remember the feeling of easing into consciousness still in my clothes, my room warm and sunny, welcoming me back. I never feel more rested than when I rest well at school. I want to remember the stacks of textbooks, notebooks, violin books, packaging material and plastic that adorn my floor, my shelves with old molecule modeling sets, rubbing alcohol, vitamins. The chaos of my room doesn’t take away from it’s relaxing quality; the two ideas have found harmony in this little space.
I’m a little cold so I might ignite my electric kettle for some tea. Early grey and milk, in my Cafe du Monde mug. Then I’ll sit at the same Ikea desk my parents set up when they moved to Oregon and think about what I’m going to have for breakfast. This is certainly a night I’d like to remember.