Big day for a big girl

I remember what I felt like on the first day of my senior year of high school:

bad.

I wasn't ill. I just felt like a new kid, even though I had been in attendance at the school for a year already.

My family had moved the year before, and I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but your junior year of high school is not a great time to suddenly enter an academic institution.

By junior year, people are in clubs, AP classes, cliques. They're settled. They've got tough academic years ahead of them, and--from my perspective anyway--they want to spend their free time with the people they know, and don't exactly want to take the extra time to meet newbies.

I was lucky enough to meet Corie on the first day of our junior year, and I certainly understand the value she brings to my life still today, but in a school of 2,000 students, even with a great friend who takes you under her wing, one can only meet so many additional people in a year's time.

So basically by my senior year, with Corie and I not assigned to the same lunch period, and only a small selection of acquaintances, I felt nervous the way a new kid does. And it sucked.

Well I'm finding myself in a similar situation now, here in my second (and last) year of graduate school.

Not only did I feel super self-conscious and anxious for part of last week (this has receded a bit, although anxiety loves to drop in for visits), but right now I am nervous about tomorrow.

Why?

Because I'm taking the bus, people.

I was so excited about taking the bus. Saving money by buying a semester pass, giving the Earth a little break, avoiding so many encounters with those yellow envelopes that the city likes to place on my windshield.

I've even taken the bus before. In general, and in this city before. But I haven't gone to this particular stop that I'll be going to tomorrow.

I realize this sounds ridiculous, guys. I really do.

But as I was telling Nick tonight, the bus is on a schedule. And I don't want to throw it off. You know, by asking questions about how things work.

I know what time the bus is supposed to come to the stop tomorrow, but will it be early? Late? If so, how late? Will I be sitting there for 20 extra minutes waiting, with the bus eventually coming after all, so that everything works out but not without wondering, "Where's the bus where's the bus where's the bus?" until it shows up?

And here's the other thing. Since taking the bus will not allow me to leave for home until all my duties on campus are over (not that that's different from what I would do even if I drove myself to school tomorrow), I'm packing a lunch.

I haaaate packing a lunch.

Let me repeat that:

Haaaate it.

People, I grew up on cafeteria food. I like hot food.

Plastic trays, those cards we had in middle school--that had 10 or 20 paper appendages on them that would be sliced off in a machine each day--, people behind glass shields who fill my paper boat with peas and say they're "doin' fine" when I ask them how their days are going.

I have always been more at ease with these things than with paper bags of chilled or room temperature items in Ziploc bags. On the occasions that I didn't pack my own lunch as an adolescent (if I packed one in the first place) but brought one--usually to a field trip--Mom would often leave an "XO" written in marker on the napkin, and that gave me a sense of peace in the midst of my day. But, messaged napkins aside, I still preferred and continue to prefer hot food.

If I could have lunch on a tray with an XO napkin, or just share a tray lunch with Mom (who also prefers hot food): these would obviously be options I would choose above eating a sack lunch alone. Duh. Point being--the XO napkin certainly livened up the sack lunch and brought Mom to lunch with me, it still meant I was eating something cold.

I'm trying to say that I love my mom more than I love hot food. I'm not sure I'm articulating it very well. You'll have to forgive me--I'm a little preoccupied with tomorrow's bus trip.

Moving on.

The problem when you get to this stage in life (i.e. grad school, working adult) is that hot food is so much more expensive than just packing a lunch. Unless you're at home during the day, but oftentimes that doesn't jive well with a campus schedule.

So to explain to you why I'm nervous about my day tomorrow is that I have to take the bus, and bring a lunch.

And I guess I feel a little bit like I'm back in my grade school days--and not in the good way (because I have several good memories of those days).

When I'm liberal with the wallet, and pay for downtown parking (or for tickets when I don't have enough, or any, cash for the meter), and expensive lunches prepared by others, and vending machine snacks, and Starbucks, then I can go to bed the night before without packing a lunch. I can leave home closer to the last minute so that I can park close to school and walk to class with just enough time to get there with a few minutes to spare, maybe with enough time to grab an americano first.

But then I look at my bank account and feel bad about myself and my decisions (I do that anyway, but...).

So I'm nervous. This is getting long so I won't go much beyond this. But I guess there is something to be said for changing up your routine and the toll it can have on your stress level. For sacrificing some independence in the name of a budget.

And for feeling homesick at age 26. Homesick for sharing meals with your family in the evenings. For that emotional safety of wearing sweats in a college cafeteria, giggling with your fellow sleep deprived friends in the middle of a Tuesday, with homework waiting until later--much later--that night, or the next.

Maybe I'll have someone to chat with while I eat my dried cranberries and Wheat Thins tomorrow. Maybe the bus driver will smile at me. Maybe I'll splurge and buy an americano.