This summer was not unlike last summer. I left college, went home to Cleveland for a short stint and then went off to a new city for a writing job. Last summer the job was in Washington D.C., this summer it was in New York City. Both summers I lived in an apartment with new roommates and navigated new cities, new grocery stores and new yoga studios.
But then Labor Day rolled around, and things got weird. My Facebook newsfeed was covered with the usual back-to-school excitement, and I received notifications about orientation events and parties. Only this time, I wasn’t going back to Philly, I was in New York for good. I was an alum.
I Graduated, And Everything Has Changed
I think it’s fair to say that the transition from student to “adult” is awkward for most. At least it has been for me. Up until Labor Day, I could almost pretend like I was just in another summer internship, waiting for school to resume.
But now that college is resuming, and I’m not there, things are getting real. I’m no longer a student. I graduated. I guess I’m what they call an “independent adult.” I still feel too young to match that description. I still feel like I should be going back to school.
Come Tuesday, I will go back to work, and I will come home to my apartment in NYC. I will not go to a creative writing course, nor will I go to a class on 19th century novels. I will not be participating in the deliberations on who to accept for my a cappella group.
I think it will take some time to get used to this whole adult thing, but I can definitely say one thing. I will not miss the homework.
