Fading into Deep Summer

July. 90 degrees. Undeniably summertime. And, accordingly, my life has slowly acclimated itself to a slow-paced but jam-packed lifestyle that keeps me awake just long enough to toss and turn a little in the hot Boston nights. Did that make sense? It might not have. But here’s the basics: I’m pretty much in a routine, but repeating things each day doesn’t necessarily make it easier to find more energy and go forth and adventure more. Sounds boring right? It is– but I’m pretty okay with it.

My internship has continued at a steady pace. As predicted, the more I learn, the more comfortable I am and the more enjoyable the experience can be. But there’s still something incredibly exhausting about leaving my house at 7:30 AM to catch a train to get into Boston, and then walking for 25 minutes to my office where I will sit for 8 and a half hours before heading back to the train station and, eventually home. I arrive on my doorstep around 6:30, 11 hours after I left. Some nights, if I’m feeling particularly courageous, I will head to the gym and then by the time I get home again, it’s 8 pm, and I eat some dinner before passing out. Writing that makes my life sound a lot more monotonous and depressing than it actually is; this summer is a lesson in growing up. And it’s a lesson that I picked out for myself. Each morning, when I join the mass of people exiting the trains at North Station, I feel anonymous though strangely part of a very large whole– I’m a commuter— going to work in the city— aside tall women with umbrellas, short men with lunch bags, young people, old people, people I know, strangers… The small satisfaction that comes from recognizing strangers who share mysame routine is perhaps odd– but never fails to merit a smile. In this case, each day is so much the same: it starts the same, it ends the same, I sit in the same chair all day typing on the same keyboard looking periodically out the same window. So it is in the tiny variations from routine that I perk up and out of my summer haze. Some days one of my best friends catches the same train as me going home– we always try to find seats next to each other and joke about how boring we are and corporate lunches and recount stories from high school that at that junction seem so far away we cant help but laugh and shiver a little at the thought of senior year approaching.

For honesty’s sake: this post was inspired by a creeping feeling of sadness after my beloved and now departed camp job started yesterday– without me. I knew it would happen, but it’s been harder for me to move on than I anticipated and yesterday I had so many moments where, while typing away at my desk or making phone calls, I would think to myself “I wonder how camp is going?” But, as I’ve said a million times before and will continue to echo until it actually sinks in: I have to grow up, no matter how scary and unpleasant it is.

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About nbrouder
I'm a senior at Bates College getting ready for thesis and the real world!

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