One Month Unemployed
Dear EN502, I don’t have a bed in my room. My parents helped me get rid of it while I was in China in preparation to upgrade to a new, full-size bed; I’ve slept on the same narrow mattress and bedframe since I was ten (the memory foam was old and no longer held its shape – every year in college when I came home for winter break, I slept in an imprint of myself pressed permanently into the mattress). When I decided this summer that I’d spend my second gap year at home to work part-time and apply for grad school, I thought a good transition into living at home again would be to sleep comfortably, if nothing else. I got back to the US in late August, and, while waiting for my new mattress and bedframe to arrive, moved into the guest bedroom downstairs. The end of August was hot and smokey – Idaho burned, and my hometown looked apocalyptic as a result. The mountains outside my window, usually so crisp in detail, looked hazy and indistinct like a poorly developed polaroid picture. A fin...