The Return

As I was walking home yesterday, I passed two women conferring near a car, masks on their chins and iPhones in hand. "Bob's Discount Furniture is the only place. Alright, we're on table duty." Immediately, another woman marched out of the nearby rental building entrance, proclaiming, "Blender! I'm on blender duty!"

It was a scene of college move-in that is as commonplace as it is exhausting. As a second-year graduate student, I have the distinct privilege of observing the scenes from afar, embracing the relief that comes with knowing I do not need to brave the local Target for kitchen essentials or cheap ottomans. It's a rite of passage for students and parents alike, but at twenty-nine much of the novelty of independent living has faded and been replaced with questions of the more existential variety. "When will I actually live in a place for a long time? When will I start bolting things down?" It's one thing to make a living space; it's quite another to make a life.

I hope the first two women found a suitable and reasonably priced kitchen table at Bob's. The blender, though, I have serious doubts about. Have you seen the Target right now?