But that Saturday, while I was still in bed, I got another call from my mom. I knew from her first word the reason she was calling. Very early that morning, my grandfather had died in his sleep. I wept.
I wonder, sometimes, if you feel forgotten. After all, I did not become an English professor, as I once thought I might.
I had plenty of time to think about suffering.
One of our neighbors is a nosy elderly lady named Linda. I love Linda.
Will Montei made me feel infinitely better about moving to college and leaving everyone behind, simply because no matter how sad and alone I felt, at least I wasn’t him.
Christmas is always the musk of dusty angel robes and glow of Christmas tree lights on the hardwood floor. Easter, however, is rarely the same twice.
The pattern of post-grad life has few intuitive goals. The to-do list is not made for you; life seems more intrinsically aimless.
I was recently in a local theater production of Ragtime. I’d like to take a moment to thank my fellow cast members for being humans, and for the joy they brought to my life just by existing.
And I’m in Ann Arbor, dreaming of waffles.
Their apathy towards education, even in the moments it was spoon fed to them, was almost impressive.
