Somewhere in Time
It's July 2019. I'm at Baekyangsa Temple about two hours south of Seoul up in the forested mountains. It is a Buddhist monastery, open to the public for temple stays where they can meditate, commune with nature, learn how to prepare kimchi in the traditional way from the resident monks, and train in Korean martial arts. I didn't come all this way to learn how to make kimchi.
"Are you well?" asks a sister monk, her head shorn of all hair as she sits on the wooden floor across from me. The dialogue catches me off-guard as the first two hours of the day had been spent observing and respecting the order's vows of silence as they start their day before reciting ancient prayers and striking traditional drums. She notices I'm perspiring, with Korean summers always running hot even in the mountains, the heat radiating through the rice papered buildings.
"예" I respond in my broken but serviceable Korean. "Thanks for letting me stay with you for the day."
"I have noticed you have trouble with meditation." The monk continues as she continues to serenely observe me. "Follow me."
"Oh, I mean, I've done this before." I respond before her look makes me quickly shut up and follow her lead, our breathing slowing down as we each enter the lotus position and begin to clear our minds.
2019 was a really incredible year; a year where things I wanted to happen snowballed in a lot of unexpected ways to the point of surrealism at times. But even as bombastic as things could and did get, I still go into the new year hoping to stay curious and do better. And I do that knowing we're entering an election year at a time where everything just seems so much more volatile and do-or-die than normal. So everything seems all the more heightened and important, victories and defeats alike.
It's September 2010. I'm in a Panera across the street from my old alma mater, having just graduated three months prior. I decided after a lifetime of schooling, I would roll up my sleeves and focus to getting to work. As I see younger friends post on social media about heading back to their respective academic institutions for a new school year, I get some serious FOMO. My father is in the process of moving in with his girlfriend, leaving my sister and I to mind the family home. My ex-girlfriend walks in and sits down with her coffee. She is dressed to begin student teaching high school Spanish as she begins grad school in earnest. The nearly three-year relationship had ended abruptly but not entirely unexpectedly and, fortunately, not acrimoniously. After catching up she asks what I have going on next and I lower my gaze.
"I know things with us...I know things are different but you can still talk to me, Sam. Still thinking about grad school?" she says raising an eyebrow. I consider this and match her eyes.
"Yeah. I want to do something that combines the comm degree and all these foreign languages. Would seem a waste otherwise," I wink causing her to immediately roll her eyes; a reflex action at this point.
Last blog post I really did focus on those personal victories because I'm proud of them; looking back at what I did still makes me excited for next year. But there were setbacks and big things that never quite panned out too of course, that's something of an inevitability. I got to translate an issue of one of my favorite comic series last year...but I also lost out on two other translation gigs for various reasons -- one of which that would've been my first major prose work and could've potentially been life-changing even just from a financial standpoint. That's immensely frustrating and, yes, it still stings quite a bit but the idea that I was even considered in the first place is the silver lining to it all along with the possibility that more offers could crop up in the future. The possibility of which is exciting and I remain hopeful for.
It's August 2011. I'm picking up my grandfather from his retirement community in Springfield where he has been living since 1999. The previous month we buried my grandmother and his wife of 62 years after a sudden stroke. Since then, I've been taking care of him around his apartment and taking him out to breakfast at least once a week to keep him company as he suddenly has found himself alone. What's different this time, a month on, is that later that day I will be starting my first week of grad school at George Mason University.
My grad school search had come between the University of Florida's International Communication program and George Mason's Global Affairs program, with a concentration in Media & Information Technology. GMU won out because I was offered a graduate assistantship and the in-state tuition. After the death of my grandmother, it all felt like kismet, in a way, so I could take care of my sole remaining grandparent.
"You sure you're not going to be late for class?" asks my grandfather as he settles into my Corolla and begins fastening his seatbelt.
"They're all night classes at this level. Let's me keep a job. And keep doing this." I smile cheekily as we hit the road together.
"Well, I wish you wouldn't have cut your hair so short for your first day of school. I always liked it better when you kept a little length." He observed dryly.
"That is exactly the last thing I expected you to say." I reply as the smile turns rueful.
And I can't really complain about all the things I've been able to do in the writing/translating side of things. That was and continues to be the part of my life that I never really anticipated would happen and where it would go next. Looking back, there was a lot of stuff leading up this: The deep interest in geek culture, the podcast, the magazine; all these seemingly disparate threads came together to make all this happen. It definitely wasn't planned but a lot of my life doesn't seem to be, it just unfolds the way it should, win-lose-or-draw. At the same time, that volatility and polemical discourse has crept into that geeky side of my life too: Just look at the discussion around Star Wars; people can't stand if others disagree with them on any aspect of the movies. I have opinions about Star Wars; I used to post movie reviews on Facebook just because I needed an outlet for that energy. But I also always recognized all this is just moving pictures on celluloid; no need to get all that online vitriol out there.
It's August 2012. I'm sitting down at Caribou Coffee at Fairfax Corner with Jake. It is the first time him and I have ever hung out one-on-one after meeting a birthday surprise for my sister in this same town center three months prior. We immediately bonded over a mutual love of The Beatles and cinema, and Jake had followed up online and intimated that he wanted to start a podcast or something. I've been back from studying abroad in Argentina for less than a month, having departed shortly after my sister's birthday for the summer. I am about to start my final semester of grad school. A friendly coffee to see what we would want to do with a potential podcast extends to five hours.
Having said that, I need to keep a day job, at least for the foreseeable future. Pragmatically, there's the health benefits which are so elusive and all-important in this country but really, I just need to feel like I'm doing actual tangible good. Working in public education is not something someone does for financial boon but because they want the next generation to succeed in ways that they themselves cannot. I'm always inspired when I work with kids and so many of them are already far smarter than I'll ever be. That's incredibly encouraging. That being said, have I looked to other fields and areas -- including different geographical areas -- to take that need to try to improve the world on a professional basis? Yeah, and I hope that pays off in 2020; it's one of my biggest wishes for the new year.
It's October 2013. I'm at an outdoor cafe in Bryant Park meeting my new boss for the consulting gig I recently started. The beginning of the year was spent with a failed attempt to become a foreign service officer; despite high test scores, my lack of professional experience led them to select another candidate and I went into management consulting instead for a firm based out of Manhattan. This is my first time meeting my boss on his home turf, but I'm always looking for an excuse to visit New York.
"You came a long way for a quick meeting." he says as he sits down and picks up his glass of bourbon.
"I have friends and family throughout the city. It was really no trouble at all." I say as I loosen my tie after the long car ride north.
"Well, we're happy to have you on board. You feel up for it?" he asks.
"Yeah, this is something I've wanted to do for awhile." I grin as I raise my own glass of bourbon. "To days yet to come."
You know, I always get annoyed when I see someone on social media post that there's still good in the world. Of course there is, you just have to get outside and out of the cynical prison you've built for yourself to see the world and others around you. You don't necessarily have to leave the continent or even the city to do it but when's the last time you danced like you meant it? When's the last time you had a moment in time where you really savored how awesome and beautiful the world really was? A lot of this past year was me chasing those moments because -- and I'm sure I've said this before -- when you love life, it tends to love you back. I'm not saying that's easy, I'm covered in both literal and metaphorical scars from past attempts, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't try and try earnestly. Be it rock shows or any manner of travel or even just time with friends, that's where the payoff to life permeates and breathes.
It's June 2014. I'm in Dover for Firefly Music Festival. I've gone to music festivals in the DC area ever since high school but never one out of the Washington Metro Area and one lasting multiple days. But, with things going well with the consulting job and my own relationship woes seemingly leveling out, it felt like a good occasion to indulge myself.
And I'm not alone. Several friends from high school or longer are joining me as we camp just outside the festival grounds, arriving late Thursday night. Every morning begins with a meager breakfast followed by some early liquid courage. The rock music carries across multiple stages during the day, with the deceptively hot Delaware heat leading to dry dust and dirt being kicked up by the thousands of attendees. I had been ridiculed for bringing a box of baby wipes but they quickly prove invaluable as the weekend progresses. Each night ends massive electronic raves lasting until the early morning. I am exhausted. And I am happy.
I guess the big things I'm trying to keep in mind as I enter the new year is to stay honest and open with myself and others. That's always been my guiding light, my North Star. Without it, we're all stumbling in the dark, going around in circles seemingly without direction as we make the same mistakes. There is a little more determination from myself going into 2020, I've had my fun but want to take things to a whole other level professionally and personally. Hopefully the self-confidence isn't misplaced this time and the anxiety serves as fuel rather than a paralytic. We'll see.
It's January 2015. I'm in my new boss' office in the first week of the new year. While I don't look it, I've spent the better (or worse) part of the last few days ripping out carpet from my family home's basement due to the original pipes finally breaking and flooding it. The incident will convince my father to finally begin preparations to sell it as me and sister are relieved from keeping it in the family. While it's bittersweet to let it go for all of us, I am quietly happy though exhausted from the recent work.
I interviewed for this job shortly before the end of 2014 but the impending holidays and my grandfather's funeral forestalled me actually starting it until the following month. My boss looks me over as I sit down in my usual sweater and dress shirt combo.
"This is definitely a different kind of role than you're probably used to. But remember, even though you're listed as faculty, we're really just administrators. But, if you really want to teach, we can get you set up for the Fall semester if you commit by next month. You have a master's, right?"
"In Global Affairs." I nod.
"The degree itself doesn't matter too much as long as it's a master's. One nice perk about being faculty is you get to take six free credit hours a semester if you want. Anything you want to study this semester?" she asks. I think for a moment.
"I always wanted to learn Korean." I answer, the faint traces of a wistful smile forming at the corners of my lips.
Of course, I wouldn't be able to do this alone. Looking back, it really is incredible I've kept friends for nearly thirty years now -- that just shouldn't happen, people grow apart as time progresses. And yet, I rang in the new year with someone I've known since kindergarten. I've been part of wedding parties of people I've known just as long over the past decade. I live down the street from friends from college. And I keep making new friends every year, the circle grows and strengthens and deepens. I'm inspired by it and I don't know quite what makes these friendships endure, it sure as hell isn't me! That's a joke, I think. But there is a richness and depth in such an extensive history and numerous shared experience. Like everything else in my life, it's not really something I'm consciously building but it's just how it all turned out. And my family...last blog post I stressed why my sister getting married this past year was such a big deal and it's true. Me and her have been through a lot together and I really did step up to help raise her at a time when that was at it's most crucial. I taught her how to drive. I brought to high school everyday her first year. I stepped in to her defense and I have literal scars to prove that. And this year was the happy ending and new beginning that she deserved.
It's June 2016. I'm walking towards Columbia Heights from the Warner Theater, having just seen a rock show that was a longtime coming. My lifelong friend Alex has been living in a group house in the neighborhood since moving back to the area from California the previous year. He greets me and we sit on his roof overlooking the neighborhood doing the same thing we've bonded over for 22 years: a game of chess.
"How was the show?" he asks without taking his eyes off the board. Unable to contain myself any longer, the biggest grin my face is capable of quickly takes shape.
"Dude, I just got yelled at by a Beatle." I laugh.
My biggest fear -- aside from spiders -- has always been of stagnation, the worry that I'm not going anywhere and just stuck in a rut. I've had years where I've been afraid that's been going on but the past couple years, I'm looking back and looking forward and seeing that it really has all been leading to something even if I never noticed at the time. Every time I went on a different international trip, it felt like a new piece of the puzzle, both personally and professionally, clicked into place. I don't know what that means for 2020 but I do know I have to keep the momentum going while remembering why I started in the first place. And, of course, have a lot of fun along the way; life will only ever be as good as the memories we make and they really have been getting better all the time.
It's July 2017. I'm in the middle of Joshua Tree National Park in California. Image Comics let me fly out several days ahead of San Diego Comic-Con and I booked a car before driving deep into the Yuca Valley to take full advantage of the lead time. I am attempting to meditate in the middle of the desert, surrounded by cholla and tumbleweeds but am having trouble clearing my mind.
I adjust my posture and take off my black cowboy hat setting it next me before letting my hands run through the sand. For the past several months I've felt like I'm at a crossroads. The podcast is getting some actual listenership and we're getting guests of repute. I've been writing for Image's monthly magazine for over a year now and my first translated book was released at the beginning of the year but somehow...something feels off.
I take a deep breath, try to slow everything, and empty my mind.
"Let's knock on the sky and listen for the sound." I murmur to myself as I resume the position and close my eyes.
This is really just an extra, filler paragraph to keep up with the pattern before I cut to one last memory. Thanks for reading along!
It's December 2018. I double-check my online statement again and it's true: My student loans have been completely paid off. I now owe nothing financially for either my undergraduate or graduate education. I lean back in my office chair and glance up at the ceiling.
"Thank you." I mutter under my breath before leaning back forward and booting up Skype. I scroll through my list of contacts and begin a text conversation.
"Declan," I begin to type. "Your birthday falls on a weekend next month, yeah? Do you know any good places in Dublin to get brunch that day? My treat."
"Are you well?" asks a sister monk, her head shorn of all hair as she sits on the wooden floor across from me. The dialogue catches me off-guard as the first two hours of the day had been spent observing and respecting the order's vows of silence as they start their day before reciting ancient prayers and striking traditional drums. She notices I'm perspiring, with Korean summers always running hot even in the mountains, the heat radiating through the rice papered buildings.
"예" I respond in my broken but serviceable Korean. "Thanks for letting me stay with you for the day."
"I have noticed you have trouble with meditation." The monk continues as she continues to serenely observe me. "Follow me."
"Oh, I mean, I've done this before." I respond before her look makes me quickly shut up and follow her lead, our breathing slowing down as we each enter the lotus position and begin to clear our minds.
2019 was a really incredible year; a year where things I wanted to happen snowballed in a lot of unexpected ways to the point of surrealism at times. But even as bombastic as things could and did get, I still go into the new year hoping to stay curious and do better. And I do that knowing we're entering an election year at a time where everything just seems so much more volatile and do-or-die than normal. So everything seems all the more heightened and important, victories and defeats alike.
It's September 2010. I'm in a Panera across the street from my old alma mater, having just graduated three months prior. I decided after a lifetime of schooling, I would roll up my sleeves and focus to getting to work. As I see younger friends post on social media about heading back to their respective academic institutions for a new school year, I get some serious FOMO. My father is in the process of moving in with his girlfriend, leaving my sister and I to mind the family home. My ex-girlfriend walks in and sits down with her coffee. She is dressed to begin student teaching high school Spanish as she begins grad school in earnest. The nearly three-year relationship had ended abruptly but not entirely unexpectedly and, fortunately, not acrimoniously. After catching up she asks what I have going on next and I lower my gaze.
"I know things with us...I know things are different but you can still talk to me, Sam. Still thinking about grad school?" she says raising an eyebrow. I consider this and match her eyes.
"Yeah. I want to do something that combines the comm degree and all these foreign languages. Would seem a waste otherwise," I wink causing her to immediately roll her eyes; a reflex action at this point.
Last blog post I really did focus on those personal victories because I'm proud of them; looking back at what I did still makes me excited for next year. But there were setbacks and big things that never quite panned out too of course, that's something of an inevitability. I got to translate an issue of one of my favorite comic series last year...but I also lost out on two other translation gigs for various reasons -- one of which that would've been my first major prose work and could've potentially been life-changing even just from a financial standpoint. That's immensely frustrating and, yes, it still stings quite a bit but the idea that I was even considered in the first place is the silver lining to it all along with the possibility that more offers could crop up in the future. The possibility of which is exciting and I remain hopeful for.
It's August 2011. I'm picking up my grandfather from his retirement community in Springfield where he has been living since 1999. The previous month we buried my grandmother and his wife of 62 years after a sudden stroke. Since then, I've been taking care of him around his apartment and taking him out to breakfast at least once a week to keep him company as he suddenly has found himself alone. What's different this time, a month on, is that later that day I will be starting my first week of grad school at George Mason University.
My grad school search had come between the University of Florida's International Communication program and George Mason's Global Affairs program, with a concentration in Media & Information Technology. GMU won out because I was offered a graduate assistantship and the in-state tuition. After the death of my grandmother, it all felt like kismet, in a way, so I could take care of my sole remaining grandparent.
"You sure you're not going to be late for class?" asks my grandfather as he settles into my Corolla and begins fastening his seatbelt.
"They're all night classes at this level. Let's me keep a job. And keep doing this." I smile cheekily as we hit the road together.
"Well, I wish you wouldn't have cut your hair so short for your first day of school. I always liked it better when you kept a little length." He observed dryly.
"That is exactly the last thing I expected you to say." I reply as the smile turns rueful.
And I can't really complain about all the things I've been able to do in the writing/translating side of things. That was and continues to be the part of my life that I never really anticipated would happen and where it would go next. Looking back, there was a lot of stuff leading up this: The deep interest in geek culture, the podcast, the magazine; all these seemingly disparate threads came together to make all this happen. It definitely wasn't planned but a lot of my life doesn't seem to be, it just unfolds the way it should, win-lose-or-draw. At the same time, that volatility and polemical discourse has crept into that geeky side of my life too: Just look at the discussion around Star Wars; people can't stand if others disagree with them on any aspect of the movies. I have opinions about Star Wars; I used to post movie reviews on Facebook just because I needed an outlet for that energy. But I also always recognized all this is just moving pictures on celluloid; no need to get all that online vitriol out there.
It's August 2012. I'm sitting down at Caribou Coffee at Fairfax Corner with Jake. It is the first time him and I have ever hung out one-on-one after meeting a birthday surprise for my sister in this same town center three months prior. We immediately bonded over a mutual love of The Beatles and cinema, and Jake had followed up online and intimated that he wanted to start a podcast or something. I've been back from studying abroad in Argentina for less than a month, having departed shortly after my sister's birthday for the summer. I am about to start my final semester of grad school. A friendly coffee to see what we would want to do with a potential podcast extends to five hours.
Having said that, I need to keep a day job, at least for the foreseeable future. Pragmatically, there's the health benefits which are so elusive and all-important in this country but really, I just need to feel like I'm doing actual tangible good. Working in public education is not something someone does for financial boon but because they want the next generation to succeed in ways that they themselves cannot. I'm always inspired when I work with kids and so many of them are already far smarter than I'll ever be. That's incredibly encouraging. That being said, have I looked to other fields and areas -- including different geographical areas -- to take that need to try to improve the world on a professional basis? Yeah, and I hope that pays off in 2020; it's one of my biggest wishes for the new year.
It's October 2013. I'm at an outdoor cafe in Bryant Park meeting my new boss for the consulting gig I recently started. The beginning of the year was spent with a failed attempt to become a foreign service officer; despite high test scores, my lack of professional experience led them to select another candidate and I went into management consulting instead for a firm based out of Manhattan. This is my first time meeting my boss on his home turf, but I'm always looking for an excuse to visit New York.
"You came a long way for a quick meeting." he says as he sits down and picks up his glass of bourbon.
"I have friends and family throughout the city. It was really no trouble at all." I say as I loosen my tie after the long car ride north.
"Well, we're happy to have you on board. You feel up for it?" he asks.
"Yeah, this is something I've wanted to do for awhile." I grin as I raise my own glass of bourbon. "To days yet to come."
You know, I always get annoyed when I see someone on social media post that there's still good in the world. Of course there is, you just have to get outside and out of the cynical prison you've built for yourself to see the world and others around you. You don't necessarily have to leave the continent or even the city to do it but when's the last time you danced like you meant it? When's the last time you had a moment in time where you really savored how awesome and beautiful the world really was? A lot of this past year was me chasing those moments because -- and I'm sure I've said this before -- when you love life, it tends to love you back. I'm not saying that's easy, I'm covered in both literal and metaphorical scars from past attempts, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't try and try earnestly. Be it rock shows or any manner of travel or even just time with friends, that's where the payoff to life permeates and breathes.
It's June 2014. I'm in Dover for Firefly Music Festival. I've gone to music festivals in the DC area ever since high school but never one out of the Washington Metro Area and one lasting multiple days. But, with things going well with the consulting job and my own relationship woes seemingly leveling out, it felt like a good occasion to indulge myself.
And I'm not alone. Several friends from high school or longer are joining me as we camp just outside the festival grounds, arriving late Thursday night. Every morning begins with a meager breakfast followed by some early liquid courage. The rock music carries across multiple stages during the day, with the deceptively hot Delaware heat leading to dry dust and dirt being kicked up by the thousands of attendees. I had been ridiculed for bringing a box of baby wipes but they quickly prove invaluable as the weekend progresses. Each night ends massive electronic raves lasting until the early morning. I am exhausted. And I am happy.
I guess the big things I'm trying to keep in mind as I enter the new year is to stay honest and open with myself and others. That's always been my guiding light, my North Star. Without it, we're all stumbling in the dark, going around in circles seemingly without direction as we make the same mistakes. There is a little more determination from myself going into 2020, I've had my fun but want to take things to a whole other level professionally and personally. Hopefully the self-confidence isn't misplaced this time and the anxiety serves as fuel rather than a paralytic. We'll see.
It's January 2015. I'm in my new boss' office in the first week of the new year. While I don't look it, I've spent the better (or worse) part of the last few days ripping out carpet from my family home's basement due to the original pipes finally breaking and flooding it. The incident will convince my father to finally begin preparations to sell it as me and sister are relieved from keeping it in the family. While it's bittersweet to let it go for all of us, I am quietly happy though exhausted from the recent work.
I interviewed for this job shortly before the end of 2014 but the impending holidays and my grandfather's funeral forestalled me actually starting it until the following month. My boss looks me over as I sit down in my usual sweater and dress shirt combo.
"This is definitely a different kind of role than you're probably used to. But remember, even though you're listed as faculty, we're really just administrators. But, if you really want to teach, we can get you set up for the Fall semester if you commit by next month. You have a master's, right?"
"In Global Affairs." I nod.
"The degree itself doesn't matter too much as long as it's a master's. One nice perk about being faculty is you get to take six free credit hours a semester if you want. Anything you want to study this semester?" she asks. I think for a moment.
"I always wanted to learn Korean." I answer, the faint traces of a wistful smile forming at the corners of my lips.
Of course, I wouldn't be able to do this alone. Looking back, it really is incredible I've kept friends for nearly thirty years now -- that just shouldn't happen, people grow apart as time progresses. And yet, I rang in the new year with someone I've known since kindergarten. I've been part of wedding parties of people I've known just as long over the past decade. I live down the street from friends from college. And I keep making new friends every year, the circle grows and strengthens and deepens. I'm inspired by it and I don't know quite what makes these friendships endure, it sure as hell isn't me! That's a joke, I think. But there is a richness and depth in such an extensive history and numerous shared experience. Like everything else in my life, it's not really something I'm consciously building but it's just how it all turned out. And my family...last blog post I stressed why my sister getting married this past year was such a big deal and it's true. Me and her have been through a lot together and I really did step up to help raise her at a time when that was at it's most crucial. I taught her how to drive. I brought to high school everyday her first year. I stepped in to her defense and I have literal scars to prove that. And this year was the happy ending and new beginning that she deserved.
It's June 2016. I'm walking towards Columbia Heights from the Warner Theater, having just seen a rock show that was a longtime coming. My lifelong friend Alex has been living in a group house in the neighborhood since moving back to the area from California the previous year. He greets me and we sit on his roof overlooking the neighborhood doing the same thing we've bonded over for 22 years: a game of chess.
"How was the show?" he asks without taking his eyes off the board. Unable to contain myself any longer, the biggest grin my face is capable of quickly takes shape.
"Dude, I just got yelled at by a Beatle." I laugh.
My biggest fear -- aside from spiders -- has always been of stagnation, the worry that I'm not going anywhere and just stuck in a rut. I've had years where I've been afraid that's been going on but the past couple years, I'm looking back and looking forward and seeing that it really has all been leading to something even if I never noticed at the time. Every time I went on a different international trip, it felt like a new piece of the puzzle, both personally and professionally, clicked into place. I don't know what that means for 2020 but I do know I have to keep the momentum going while remembering why I started in the first place. And, of course, have a lot of fun along the way; life will only ever be as good as the memories we make and they really have been getting better all the time.
It's July 2017. I'm in the middle of Joshua Tree National Park in California. Image Comics let me fly out several days ahead of San Diego Comic-Con and I booked a car before driving deep into the Yuca Valley to take full advantage of the lead time. I am attempting to meditate in the middle of the desert, surrounded by cholla and tumbleweeds but am having trouble clearing my mind.
I adjust my posture and take off my black cowboy hat setting it next me before letting my hands run through the sand. For the past several months I've felt like I'm at a crossroads. The podcast is getting some actual listenership and we're getting guests of repute. I've been writing for Image's monthly magazine for over a year now and my first translated book was released at the beginning of the year but somehow...something feels off.
I take a deep breath, try to slow everything, and empty my mind.
"Let's knock on the sky and listen for the sound." I murmur to myself as I resume the position and close my eyes.
This is really just an extra, filler paragraph to keep up with the pattern before I cut to one last memory. Thanks for reading along!
It's December 2018. I double-check my online statement again and it's true: My student loans have been completely paid off. I now owe nothing financially for either my undergraduate or graduate education. I lean back in my office chair and glance up at the ceiling.
"Thank you." I mutter under my breath before leaning back forward and booting up Skype. I scroll through my list of contacts and begin a text conversation.
"Declan," I begin to type. "Your birthday falls on a weekend next month, yeah? Do you know any good places in Dublin to get brunch that day? My treat."
