I walked into the Student Center this morning, around 9am. It was empty. Then, I remembered the Student Center Grand Opening last year. It was full.
Some days, I couldn’t even find a place to sit in the Student Center café and eat my sushi on my lunch break. Now there’s all the tables to pick from. I’d walk into the office and see all my coworkers and friends. Now we work mostly remotely, except for the days when I’m the only student worker in the office. My friend and I would grab coffee downstairs during our shift and catch up with our favorite barista. Now the coffee shop is closed, and we haven’t seen our favorite barista.
I’m a Cancer, so I’m always a little bit nostalgic anyways, but this is sad.
I’ll never forget my last day on campus. I remember what I wore that day. My green baby doll dress with a white turtleneck underneath, black tights, and my favorite pink floral docs, in case you’re wondering. I came into work at 9am, hung up posters around all the campus buildings, while hand sanitizing after every single door and elevator button I touched. I went to my theatre class. We tried to start our class work, but it turned into anxiety-ridden talk of what was going to happen. We didn’t know. We didn’t know a thing. I came back to the Student Center for rehearsal for a film shoot I was supposed to be on that weekend, then we got the email that classes would be suspended. I ran to Chipotle and was back just in time for my night class.
My brain remembers little moments like this from last year. I have endless flashbacks of life before the pandemic, so I could go on and on, but it feels so distant. It’s quite empty, empty enough to be swimming in my nostalgia.
Until next time,