institute for documentary studies

{Week 13: Writing}

Week 13: Writing

It’s been a long week. A very long week. If you’ve ever been to summer camp, you know the feeling — time stretching, days melting, so that a week becomes a year. I could not tell you what I did yesterday or the day before because my memory does not extend that far back.
All I know is that yesterday I turned in my final draft for writing, and then I went to bed and slept for six hours instead of the usual four, and I dreamed that I had a bottle of milk in my fridge. That might not seem fantastical to a functioning human being, but for me, it’s so far from my current reality that it could only be a dream.
When I woke up, I felt like a new woman. Like I was one monkey closer to being a man on the March of Progress: my back is straighter, I can see without having to violently smush my fists into my eyes, and I can form full sentences. I will leave out the part where I had to use a T-shirt to dry myself this morning because my towel was in the laundry, or that I ate toast with peanut butter for the last three meals, or that my phone has been dead for 24 hours because I left my charger at home and I’ve been living at Salt. All of that is irrelevant. I have brushed hair and a relatively clean pair of jeans on and I feel destined for greatness.
Currently, Salt looks like a bomb shelter. Chairs have been stripped of their cushioning to make beds on the ground, the fridge is packed with condiments, soda, and questionably edible leftovers, and the counter is lined with crumb trails and empty Ziploc bags. In the lounge, there is a sign taped to the door that reads “Nap in Progress.” Salt students run up and down the long hallway in various states of panic, their eyes bulging, their hands shaking, their voices rising.
But all will be over so soon. Maine will finally admit to itself that it’s spring. Everything will be turned in – the essays and the jpegs and the archival files – and I will regain my sanity and my life. Graduation nears, and I can taste it. The fresh milk that will be in my fridge.
I plan to take a one-month nap. When I wake up it will be summer.