My Room Wants to Eat Me

My conversations about college revolved around the fact that I would love it, I would have fun, and that it would be the best time of my life.

Hundreds of times I must have told people where I was going, why in the world my school started in late September instead of August like normal schools, and what my major would be.

I’ll tell you once more for good measure.

I’m going to Seattle Pacific University. It’s on the North side of Queen Anne hill in the beautiful city of Seattle, Washington. My school starts late because we are on the quarter system. (There are three quarters, not four. The fourth would be the during the summer but I fully intend to enjoy my summer somewhere besides school.) And I intend to major in English. I want to write a book someday.

People often look at me funny for that one. “Oh, that’s cool,” tends to be the normal response.

I want to say, “Yeah it’s cool! I’ll write a book and I’ll be famous for it and then they’ll make it into a movie that everyone loves! Maybe I’ll be super poor after college and start writing on napkins in a coffee shop and become a millionaire!”

But really I just say, “Thanks.”

When you talk about college you don’t talk about packing.

You don’t even experience packing until you’re packing.

My packing experience has been one of the scariest things to ever happen to my room, and I mean it. Once I started pulling things out of my closet, off my bookshelf, and out of my drawers, my whole world changed.

I didn’t want to go in my room.

This morning I ran down the stairs, past my mom, yelling, “My room wants to eat me!!”

I think she’s pretty used to me doing things like that since she just looked at me and proceeded to talk on the phone. Apparently the person on the other side of the line was more important than rescuing me.

Last night I couldn’t sleep and I randomly decided to get up and put my guitar away like I should have. I was stepping on various things and at one point I thought I stepped on a dead body (it was really late and I was really tired!). I quickly grabbed my guitar, placed it in the case with a sense of urgency, and fastened the latches. Then I jumped back in my bed. Eventually I fell asleep since I woke up the next morning.

I really don’t know why I thought that, it’s probably because all of the pillows that are usually on my bed were on the floor. And as I said, I wasn’t exactly awake and functioning.

I finally found my self-discipline slinking around the house earlier today and I made myself go into my room and put things into suitcases. It was a miracle when I could finally see the floor.

I feel guilty about how many suitcases I’m using since my Dad has to pay for all the extra luggage, but I think I’ve really done a good job about choosing what I need…don’t ask me the definition of “need” right now. I have no idea what I’m really preparing for.

Tomorrow I’ll take more time to round up all the last bits and pieces.

The bottom line is, college is going to be a blast, even if the process to getting there was a bit rough.