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Tuesday, September 3 (Independence Day)
It’s what I’ve been wanting for ages–that irresistible reward that parents hold in front of their kids just like the old proverbial carrot–that tantalizing treat that only comes with “time and age and experience.” Okay, I’m talking about independence! Today’s my official “Independence Day,” and let me tell you, it feels totally great! All right, Caitlin, let’s settle down, girl.
Of course, I had hoped to sound much more mature when I started journaling in my first college diary (or maybe I should call it a journal now). After all, I might be
an aspiring writer, journalist, or who knows what? But honestly, I did want my first college entry to sound–well, more grown-up.
On the other hand, a girl needs some place where she can just relax and be herself–let her hair down, so to speak. Especially when I’ve been acting so grown-up and mature for my parents lately, assuring them that I’m really ready for this, that I’ll be okay, and not to be so concerned–you know the kind of stuff we tell our parents to get them to chill a little. But the bottom line is, I really do believe God is watching over me, so what’s there to worry about?
And then, today–the big move in. I had to keep reassuring my dad that I was perfectly fine with this new transition. I thought I had him pretty convinced too, until it was time for him to leave. Then, with a stricken look on his face, the next thing I know he’s double-checking the dead bolt on my door and making sure the phone is working. Sheesh, he even tested the smoke detector and then actually grilled me about which was the quickest fire escape route, which fortunately I had noticed on about our fourth trip carrying my stuff up the stairs. (It’s at the end of the hall to the right.)
“Don’t worry so much, Dad,” I told him. “Hey, I even saw a fire extinguisher a couple doors down, and I’ll bet it works just fine.” I made a real effort not to laugh at what I know he feels is fairly serious business.
Finally we had all my boxes and bags and stuff stacked in my room, piled high and strewn all over the place like a tornado had blown in. (Dad believes that
haste makes waste…) Thankfully my roommate isn’t here yet, so I might actually finish getting the last of my things put away before she arrives. I hadn’t realized I’d brought so much STUFF. In fact, I thought I was being somewhat of a minimalist. That is, until I saw all that crud heaped all over the room. As I suspected, Mom had thrown in a few extra items like an emergency food supply box, a first-aid kit, and even a mini medicine chest complete with Pepto-Bismol among other things! I guess she still doesn’t think I can take care of myself, or
maybe she thinks that I’m going to get ulcers here on my own. But I have to admit, it was sweet. And now that most of my stuff is stowed away, it doesn’t look half bad around here.
Anyway, when it was time to go, my dad gave me this nice long hug, and then said all those typically parental things like: “We really believe in you, Catie. We know you’re going to do just great.” Nice stuff like that. And I’ll admit I cried, although I tried not to show it since I didn’t want Dad to feel any worse than necessary. I cried a little more after he drove away. But as I walked back toward the dorm, it hit me. I felt this wonderful rush, this new excitement, almost like adrenaline pumping right through me. I’m free! Independent! On my own! It felt so totally cool to realize this. It still does.
My mom had wanted me to join a sorority–her old one to be specific. And despite my concern that it might not be a very Christian atmosphere, I actually looked into it (mostly to pl
Excerpted from On My Own by Melody Carlson
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