No nap today, which is a big step up from Friday and Saturday. Those two days you’d have found me on the sofa, dealing with a bad case of WONKY. It’s hard to describe wonky. It comes in many forms. Sometimes, the world seems tilted a little and I can’t keep my balance. Other days, I’m slow-moving through molasses, heavy of limb and empty-headed.
Life is going relatively well, all things considered. And by that, I mean my nails are still peeling and my heels are cracked, my stomach and my intestines are unpredictable, but those are my normal so, actually, I’ve got no complaints here.
My daughter is in San Diego, enjoying a much-deserved break from all things cancer. Since she’s been doing the vast majority of the cooking, I’ve created a menu of low-effort meals for the week, necessary, since my energy is still rather sapped as the chemo slowly leaves my body. We’re having, in case you’re curious: pancakes and bacon, burgers, a ham slice and potatoes, a small roast with carrots and some roasted delicata squash, sandwiches, and meatloaf. If things get too real, there’s pizza in the freezer. And I won’t feel sorry in the least if I need to invoke pizza night because who doesn’t like pizza?!
The nurse who takes care of me called to wish me congratulations on my chemo break and to let me know that she won’t be checking in anymore. I knew that but it was still a bit of a jolt. It’s not that I need her to do anything but it feels again like the protective net is slipping. No doctor appointments, no nurse checking in with me, no bloodwork. What am I, a healthy person?
It’s move-in time at the college across the street. There’s an illegal amount of laughing and giggling going on. It’s weirdly like the kids are looking forward to ditching their parents and living without supervision. (This is sarcasm.)
I never lived in a dorm. Even with some scholarship money, I couldn’t afford to live on campus. Besides which, during college, I worked 4-11 most nights to try to make up the financial gap between the bill for college and those beloved scholarship funds/student loans. By the time I started grad school in Pittsburgh, leaving the house wasn’t something special. My dad had already warned me that if I planned on living at home, he’d charge me $500/month rent. That was more than I paid for my first Pittsburgh apartment ($325/month baby, utilities included).
The yearly karaoke hasn’t started yet. Believe me, I’m on tenterhooks, waiting for it. When it begins, if I go across the street and sing, do you think they’ll get the hint? I’d guess not. My singing is at least equivalent to some of the people who have performed there in the past. I know why karaoke is popular: alcohol. Since there’s no alcohol on campus, I cannot explain the success of this annual event. And since I only have part of a liver, I can’t even add alcohol to MY day to make the event more pleasing to my sober ear.
Honestly, I love the college move-in tradition. What I dislike passionately is the capitalist effort to encourage parents to spend ridiculous sums on things their children will throw out in nine months when they clear out their dorm rooms. Trust me, parents, your children will not use 90% of the cleaning supplies you’re purchasing. Neither will they need a second set of sheets, shiny wall decor, and throw pillows. Many of them won’t even use the notebooks and pens that Target says you need to get them. I know this because I walk by the unopened packs of notebooks tossed on the sidewalk with the unopened cleaner, mops and brooms, hangars and clothes with price tags still attached. Community members, including me, have been trying for years to get the schools to collect these things for freecycling but it’s difficult to coordinate and easy to look the other way.
There’s an interesting media frenzy about a celebrity’s child attending Carnegie Mellon this fall. Mostly, we residents (and the students) don’t care much about this stuff. CMU is renowned for its student – and alumni – fame. My roommate, a million years ago, was the son of an ambassador. I was in class with the great-granddaughter of our founder, as well as full professors, children of CEOs, international students of government officials. It’s hard to be entitled amongst the entitled. I suspect she’ll blend in with a student body that is singularly unimpressed by fame. After all, the shine of privilege gets decidedly less shiny the first time you have to tell your roomie that he has vomit in his hair.
Much love.
