A Luxury for Me
One day, I bought myself a pint of ice cream to treat myself after coming through midterms. All day I remember being so tired, study all night, work early in the morning, tests, and lab meetings... Through it all I kept myself going with the promise that after just a little bit longer, I'd get a scoop of ice cream and a nap. Getting home and opening the freezer, I saw the ice cream gone, the formerly new pint empty in the trash can.
I just broke down and cried. Life felt hard, and long, and heavy: always somehow pulling off the impossible, doing everything and hold a job, working even harder to send cash back home when the roof caved in and seeing my summer savings disappear - running to the library after the first meeting of each class to be the first to check out the books, constantly working since age 15, and still feeling unable to just completely immerse myself in all that is Yale. But that’s life. Worst was that in all of this I felt completely alone. My suite mates are kind, wonderful people - but they’ll never completely understand how a pint of ice cream is a luxury for me, or what it feels like to work hard for it.
I just broke down and cried. Life felt hard, and long, and heavy: always somehow pulling off the impossible, doing everything and hold a job, working even harder to send cash back home when the roof caved in and seeing my summer savings disappear - running to the library after the first meeting of each class to be the first to check out the books, constantly working since age 15, and still feeling unable to just completely immerse myself in all that is Yale. But that’s life. Worst was that in all of this I felt completely alone. My suite mates are kind, wonderful people - but they’ll never completely understand how a pint of ice cream is a luxury for me, or what it feels like to work hard for it.
