Lilly

I leave on good terms. Both my in-store manager and the guys who run the entire local chain are trying to get me to stay. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in next weekend?” they say, not even half jokingly, and: “Well, if you ever need a little extra cash, you know you can give us a call.” Sure, I’ve got their phone numbers saved, but something in me doubts I’ll be using them. I only have about three weeks left at home, anyway.

Speaking of, I got my dormitory assignment! (In the middle of writing this.) The Facebook friend request is en route to my future roommate, the awkward introductions soon to come. Who will bring the mini fridge? (Are you gonna have a problem with all these plants on our windowsill?) It’s exciting, but it makes me nervous. That’s a real live person I’m going to have to coexist with for at least half a year, and all I have to go on right now is Facebook likes (and I have two, so it’s not like I’m any less of a mystery to her). It just seems so sudden, that this is really truly happening, and I am growing up. I got excited about the detergent pods that my parents bought me the other day.

There’s so much I need to do but my head is too much of a jumble to prioritize right now. I’m thinking about what books I want to take with me and the cute girl that came through my line at work today whom I’ll never see again and the last paycheck that’ll arrive in my bank account sometime tomorrow morning, sealing the deal, telling me that my summer is almost over and there’s a whole new kind of hard work ahead.

Sometimes that work can wait. Tomorrow I’ll go for a run and make a playlist and eat a real breakfast for the first time in weeks, and then, maybe, I’ll start step one.

But it’s real now. It didn’t feel like it was before. ♦