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I couldn’t win.
“You've got yourself a photographer.” I tried to muster up some excitement with the answer.
“Great. I’ll text you the details tomorrow, and we’ll set everything up.” She stood up and squeezed my arm. “It’ll be so great to have you back on campus. Maybe if you come early, we can have a talk?”
My heart thumped a little harder. A talk. I was already dreading it. “We’ll see.”
I could just imagine what that talk would be.
“Great.” She leaned forward and gave me a quick hug before she paid her bill, left me a nice tip, and waved before heading out the door.
I took her dishes to the back, setting them off to the side for the washer to pick up, and glanced back up front. It wasn’t busy. I could put on my Christmas playlist from my phone and get to work decorating the diner.
Maybe I was a little in my comfort zone, but it wasmycomfort zone.
***
I headed home that night with a take-out dinner—my favorite club sandwich and extra fries, and a refill soda in my travelling cup. I let myself into my dark apartment and flicked the light on while I turned, shutting the door behind me. I’d heard my phone vibrate a couple of times on the drive home. I was sure it would be Professor Nelson.
I set my food down on the counter, shrugged out of my jacket, and washed my hands in the sink before drying them on a snowman-decorated kitchen towel.
I pulled out my cutlery from the drawer then took a seat at the stool facing my window and opened my meal up. Still warm, still steaming. Perfect.
I took a bite of a couple of fries and reached for my phone, swiping to bring up the messages.
True to her word, Professor Nelson had texted.
Saturday. Event runs two to five pm. If you get here around one, we’ll have time to talk and get things set up ??
We’re so looking forward to seeing you here again.
I checked the time. Kind of late. She’d probably be asleep, but at least, I’d reply, and she could give me the details later.
Me: How fancy is it?
I didn’t have a lot of fancy clothes to choose from, but I had slacks and a black pull-over V-neck sweater if need be. All my dresses, the few there actually were, were in storage at my parents’.
It beeped. Professor Nelson was up late.
You’re good in black jeans and a regular shirt.
I forgot to mention, there are a few positions opening up next semester in the department. We’ll talk more when you’re here. You should apply ??
It would be great to have you around here again on a more regular basis.
I sighed, taking a bite of my sandwich and chewing thoughtfully, watching the snow fall outside my window. I knew she meant well, but teaching was never my goal. Even assisting didn’t spark any excitement with me.
Sure, a nicer paycheck would be great, but I could feel the expectations from here.
And I wasn’t good with expectations.
I’d burned out on them…my own and others… They’d broken me…
I texted backsee you next weekand turned the phone off.
I’d gotten what I thought was one of the best internships I could get. I’d applied to pretty much anything that looked interesting, eager to learn outside of the classroom.
I wanted to hone my style and learn what I didn’t know--the business side of things, sharpen my eye. Absorb everything.
