Working Girl

Not that kind. Gutter head.

If I was quiet all weekend it was only because I was working in Providence, Rhode Island. Swoon. I loved it.
I have an affinity for traveling to new cities. I don’t discriminate either. They each have their own story, culture, and history.

I also love to have my own king sized bed every once in a while. No boyfriend snoring. No fights over my problems with sheet stealing. The temperature is set to my desired warmth. And, most importantly, I love jumping on the bed by myself. It’s weird at first, because I am legitimately jumping around by myself, but then I turn into a child and instantly enjoy it.
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Unfortunately, I did not get to experience the city for what is was, but I would love to go back.
When I did have time, I was able to walk around uphill Brown’s campus and snap some pictures.

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This is a college campus. As a SUNY (state university of New York) girl, I know no such beauty. I guess this is what the big bucks pays for?! That and the fine edumacation these young students are receiving at Brown.

I believe I was mistaken for a college student a few times based on people looking for directions. excuse me, miss, do you know where… I politely let them finish their inquiry, despite knowing I already had no idea where anything was, and then said, no I’m sorry I don’t go here. Also, dear stranger, thank you for calling me “miss” and not the dreaded ma’am.

This trip made me incredulously nostalgic. I have zero desire to be in college again if that’s what you’re thinking I mean. My mid-twenties may just be the best years yet. I have money that I make! Remember those college days, scrapping together $3 to pay for that cab ride downtown, no thank you. But I did deeply miss walking around campus, I missed my girls, I missed the carefree I have no idea where life is taking me, attitude. Even though it was the most unsure I have ever been about myself and my future. That was part if what made it all so exhilarating.

A co-worker and I were recently discussing the wise old saying, youth is wasted on the young. she looked at me as though to insinuate I don’t know all that I have. I do. I love being young, but as I walked on that campus I understood exactly what she was saying. There were those years I took for granted, and sometimes rushed. I wanted to grow up too fast. I can’t rewind. I can’t regain years.

My awareness of my own wasted youth is what makes me cling on to my present and appreciate all of my days and all that’s around me. Also, I will never, I repeat never stop jumping on the hotel bed.

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