Boutique Shorts and an Unexpected Exam
played softly while the day passed
I sat outside of the library, listening to the trickling of the water fountain. Though the beauty of it was lackluster—never rising from the fountain, falling over the sides—it played a lovely harmony that rendered me curious. Why have I denied myself the world's natural purity, so often? Just sitting there brought me comfort. The soft gust of wind, the trees swaying ever so gently, coercing their oranging leaves to clasp hands and rustle against one another. It was a beautiful day. The early autumn sun hung invitingly, allowing us to bask between its warmth and the wind's calming cold. I wore a sheer white batwing top and an expensive pair of khaki shorts that I'd gotten at a boutique in Minnesota. Boutiques are always quite pricey, but at the time, it seemed like a good investment. Quality matters, and in the long run, they held up much better than the shorts thrown in a bin in my closet—clinging to loose threads and reeking of soiled polyester.
I was just an hour and a half shy of my first class of the day. Behavioral Modification; Psych. I wasn't a fan of the course. In fact, I wasn't a fan of any of my classes. My instructors were great, and the contents were intriguing—but sitting in a class for hours feels mundane. Maybe it's the beige, sterile setting—or it could be the instructor's voice against a silent backdrop, echoing against the walls. But I enjoy learning on my own time. Waking up early to read a podcast on my walk, or watching a series of YouTube videos for hours before bed. It was weird, but it was what I preferred—and I often feel stupid for being this way.
As the wind began to blow a bit too cold for me and my shorts, I gathered my things; laptop, purse, and bottle of water with the wrapping torn off. I had an exam that needed to be taken. It was due two days before, but I was a procrastinating slacker. If I am no longer interested in something, I unconsciously left it on the backburner for as long as possible. And so, I forgot about it. After emailing my instructor an embarrassingly honest email, he granted me an extension. It was something I was extremely grateful for, but it is also what pushed me to want to change. It was immature of me to attend a school, go into debt for a degree, but ignore what truly mattered, simply because I was "no longer interested." And, in any regard, I was still interested in my major. I just wish I could skip to the end. The learning part is the hassle. It's slow, boring, and unyielding. I never felt smarter after paying attention all semester long. I jotted notes, spent time studying, and put forth my all just to receive little to nothing in return. So why work hard for the same results I'd get by sitting idly.
It's childish, but it's me. And no, I do not like it.
