It’s that time of year. Everyone else is like “Ooh, fall weather” or “Ooh, pumpkin spice latte” and I just wish I could manage to forget about my job for an hour.
I appreciate my job for many reasons, but this time of year it’s a slog. The problems of my clients push against my brain like I’m carrying a heavy weight all day long. Any thoughts are conflicted and that brings anxiety. I could sleep, sure. Or I could get out of bed, go to my desk, and put in an hour or two of work. I could be enjoying a lovely autumn afternoon with my family OR I could ignore what my family says, and walk about like a ghost who is planning how best to run a meeting I’ve scheduled for Monday morning.
That’s why I write stories. Stories have the power to pull me out of everything else I’m thinking about. It’s a real escape, a true vacation. If even one of the people reading this is able to get that same escape, I’ve done a good job.
As always, thanks for reading.
Janet
New/returning readers:
Start here: Let it Rock Chapters 1 & 2
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LYNN
The afternoon went by in a blur. I took the bus home and dropped off my things. Jim wasn't there, and it didn't look like he'd been there all day. I chose my pea-coat, since it was pretty cold and windy now. After standing in the doorway of his room for a few minutes I shut the light, slammed the door, then left.
It was about a 20 minute walk from the bus stop to Angie's dorm, and the path was all in the open, so by the time I got there I was shivering. So much for my warmer coat, I thought. I tried the handle but it was locked, so I put my hands into my pockets to wait, and looked around.
Another architectural marvel, I thought wryly. It looked like someone had dropped a slab of concrete on the ground and surrounded it with twisty paths. I'd seen the other dorms on my orientation tour and they all looked like this. They were each named for a person, like "Coleman House" or "Pict Towers". A sign in block letters next to the large door said this one was named "Kimball House". From orientation, I knew what the inside would look like, grey hallways and blue rooms with tile flooring.
I tried the handle again. Nope, it was still locked. So I turned up my collar to wait some more, and idly wished for a hat.
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A few minutes later the door opened from the inside, and Angela's head appeared. "Hi, come on in, it's cold and yucky out here." I crossed the doorway and felt my mouth drop open with surprise. This is definitely not what I'd expected.
I stood in a warm and cozy entryway. This wasn't 1970's trendy, like the orange squishy chairs style of the student union. It wasn't the drab red brick and white paint of the university classrooms and library. It wasn't even the grey and blue of the 'normal' dorms.
In front of me was a round and open space. At least 60 people could fit her comfortably, more if they squished. It was actually two areas, a set of low walls separated the inside circle from the outer ring. Benches covered in deep red cushions hugged the inner wall. A few beanbag chairs were scattered about and a multiple-globe lamp was hanging from the center of the high ceiling. I could see several other hallways branching off the outer circle to other parts of the building. A few students were lounging in the inner circle, some reading or talking, and one group was clearly working on a project with papers and notes laid carefully around them. The very center of the circle was empty of people and furniture, so I could see that it was covered in a soft, deep pile rug. I immediately wanted to join these people, to hang out with them, to sit on the chairs and rub my fingers through the carpeting.
"Wow! This is really a dorm?" I asked, amazed.
Angie was standing behind me, and had watched me take it all in. She replied, "Yes, this is my dorm. It's the honors dormitory, though, so they added some special features that I'm told aren't in the other buildings. It's actually new, it just opened this year. Why don't you have a look around? I wanna grab a snack from the store." She gestured to the left, and only then did I notice that what I thought was just another hallway was actually a small room with a wall cooler holding frozen snacks. Burritos and egg and cheese biscuits were visible, making my mouth water.
I nodded and watched her go, then gave into the temptation to explore.
The walls of the outer circle were, I could now see, hung with art. The first piece was a photo of a flower. The original picture was black and white but the artist had tinted the stem green and the background blue. It was interesting, but not exciting, so I moved on to check out the next frame hanging a few feet away.
Growing up in New York City, I had done a few class trips to museums, and seen some famous and not-so-famous art. One Sunday me and the gals got lost for a few hours, wandering the galleries in the West Village. This place reminded me a little of the Guggenheim, although I'd only been there once. They also showed the art in a circle shape (although on a much larger scale). It made me feel at home, actually. Comfortable. It was easy to ignore the low chatter of the study groups and take my time as I moved from piece to piece, thinking about what meaning I found in each one. Some of these had a professional feel. They could go in a gallery. Well, I guess this is a gallery too.
"Aren't those great? These are all done by former Stonyfield students." Angela had slipped behind me a few minutes before. She carried a bag full of food in one hand, and a six-pack of soda in the other. "What do you think?"
I stopped examining the last piece, which was an oil painting of a nude, and turned to face Angie. "These are intense. Fantastic. I think...I think that you are very lucky to live here."
"I know it," she replied, beaming, "and I'm really grateful. Let's go, I want you to see my room, and then we'll find Kanu." She led me down one hallway. "If you think this is amazing, just wait until you see our rooms. Also, we have computer access here, if you ever need to print anything just let me know."
The hallway was surprisingly normal. It was lined with doors, and each door had a white board with a marker hanging from it. I remembered that the standard dorms had a square or L-shaped room with one window, two matching beds with metal frames, two simple desks with hutches for books, and two dressers.
About halfway down the hall, Angie stopped and opened a door on the left. The simple words, "Anita at the lab" were scrawled on the board below her room number.
Again, this place turned out nothing like what I'd expected.
Angie and her roommate's beds were each elevated on a carved wooden frame, leaving ample room for the desks and chairs beneath them. The ceiling was higher than in my hillside apartment, and it was edged with a dark molding. If I climbed up to the bed and stood up, I might be able to reach and touch it. Under one window was a built-in carved wooden bookshelf, which was full of books and tchotchkes. I saw a mix of textbooks, romance novels, some adventure stories and what looked like a small Nancy Drew collection. A small alcove near the bedside held an African mask and a doll made entirely of beads. The other window also had shelves beneath, and it was full of cardboard boxes with labels like, "electronics" and "misc cables" and "radio stuff". Two large beanbag chairs, similar to those I saw earlier, were on the floor near the windows. The floors were wood, not tile, and a computer monitor sat on one desk.
"Some alumna named Kimball gave the school a big grant a few years ago," Angie was saying, "and now we get this amazing place. I just like being in a dorm with a lot of other hard working students, but since I'm here on a special scholarship I get to live in fancy-pants-central. They really want us honors kids to do well, I guess." Angie sat at the desk chair to the right, which swiveled, and gestured to the beanbags. "Have a seat."
"Thanks", I said. I took off my coat, threw it on one beanbag, and sank down into the other, dropping my purse on the floor next to me. A nice smell, like flowers, came out of the bag as I wiggled and jiggled myself into a comfortable nest. "It's amazing here, definitely. I mean, yeah, it's great. But it's so different from the regular dorm rooms." The sound of running feet went by outside, and I heard some laughter. "It's still just full of regular college kids, right?"
"I guess so. We've got higher grades and have to do some extra assignments but, otherwise, I think it's mostly normal. We get problems, too. Just the other day some kids got in trouble for letting boys in the girls bathroom." She rolled her eyes, like she would never do that.
That sounded fun to me, but I didn't say anything. Better to have some excitement than being all alone in a grungy apartment. This thought reminded me of Jim, and why I was here. "Hey, can we find Kanu now?" I asked.
"Oh, what time is it?" Angie twisted to look at the clock on her desk, then turned back. "Okay, we have some time," she answered herself. "I was waiting to tell you until we were in my room, so nobody would overhear us. I ran into Kanu with some of her friends earlier today."
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Thanks for reading!
Janet
good job. this is why hobbies are so important - writing, painting, quilting, music etc. - to reduce anxiety for a few hours & to get lost in our creativity.