University or Prison?
As I pull my car into the parking spot and cut the engine, I fight the urge to fire the car up again and just drive out of the senior parking lot. It’s Friday, the last day. All I have to do is survive one more day, and then I can hibernate all weekend. I just have to survive one more day at work. Work is horrible. I don’t know what the point of worker is. I mean I do, but I just don’t like it. It’s just so hard to make money, especially as a college student working a minimum wage part time job. That amounts to nothing! I’m basically homeless. I mean seriously, if it weren’t for my second job, which I might add I get paid way better, I would not be feeding myself. I would be at a corner somewhere begging for money.
I look at the empty parking lot, and fight back the tears that want to come out. Most students have probably already gone home due to them finishing their finals. Lucky bastards. Yet here I am, slaving away at work trying to make their semester great. I guess the only good thing about finals week is I get first dibs at the parking spot closest to the bookstore. That doesn’t do much for me because I still have to take about two hundred dreadful steps until I reach the ventilated building. Just the thought of each of those steps makes me begin my morning sweating ritual. I always have to mentally, emotionally, and psychologically prepare myself to cross the university desert to make it to work. I don’t know if I can handle that much pressure today. I’ve had too much going on; I just can’t even right now.
H. J. Ortiz 