Last week Peter moved into his new apartment, so I went and helped his family carry stuff upstairs/put together a bed from IKEA. The apartment’s a super nice place, particularly this week, as it now has a plushy emerald couch with matching ottoman, the gigantism of which I had not expected in a living room rented by (mostly) grad students. Anyway, I like it and Peter seems happy there, and all that is good. The apartment gets an official HRHF Super Stamp of Approval.
The visit’s led me to think more about how everything is changing, has changed, such and such, and we are heading straight into a new era (albeit one that so far, thankfully, does not involve disastrous double dates, like in the O.C. ep of the same name). Throughout the summer I’ve alternated between neuroses and shifting aimlessness. On one hand it’s like, OH GOD LOANS NOVEMBER WHY CAN’T I FIND A STABLE JOB OH RIGHT I HAVE ZERO CONFIDENCE IN MYSELF and on the other, the feeling that it’s just summer as per usual, so why not just let everything go. Except it’s not just summer, is it, because this is our lives now. Which becomes clearer and clearer as August rolls on.
A friend said it better –– certainly more succinctly/less navelgazing –– a few days ago, but here I am saying it now: postgraduation does not have to be so terrible, I think. This will be good. Our lives are going to get wonderful, you guys. I can see it. This will be good. I’ll keep making wishes for us at 11:11, anyway, though. You know how I do. Whimsy and optimism and all that.