Paranoia wakes me out of my slumber as I unwillingly open my eyes, and remove my head from the perfectly molded pillow. A long sigh; followed by a pronounced groan as I remove myself from the “just right” temperature that has been created beneath the sheets. Before stepping foot out the bed, I quickly locate the remote and turn on the T.V. I am greeted by the sounds of Stuart Scott providing commentary on last night’s game. I begin listening before placing eyes on the screen. Stretching my arms and getting to my feet the grind begins.
With a kidney full of Grey Goose from last night’s happy hour, I immediately proceed to the bathroom to water the snake. Feeling refreshed upon my exit, I make my way to the closet and carefully gaze at the clothes. My stare is intense. As if I look at them for long enough, they will change colors.
In evaluating the pieces that I already know are there, my 1-on-1 chess match with my closet begins. Looking at the brown ring around the collar of my favorite white shirt, I kick myself for not washing it, and think it to be trifling if I repeat the shirt in it’s unwashed wrinkled state. While navigating through my closet, I begin to invent today’s color scheme. As I begin to get dressed, I realize how resourceful my style is. I pat myself on the back for how well I work under pressure.
I scurry to the car, remove Drake’s So Far Gone mixtape from the deck, and promptly put on The Russ Parr Morning Show. Again, I kick myself for not getting gas last night. Already running late, I hurry to the gas station and hesitantly put $ 7.00 dollars in the tank. I rapidly peel off assured that 2 ½ gallons is more than enough.
I approach the freeway, and am welcomed by “Parking Lot” type traffic, accompanied by a medley of honks and beeps from irritated drivers who know they are going to be late to work. To this scene I am all too familiar; I de-escalate and join my fellow commuters.
Transitioning from the freeway to the city streets, my surroundings drastically change. I enter the Northeast quadrant of Washington DC, and immediately begin to connect with my people. Amid car radios blasting, and hard stares, I view young kids laughing and joking as they walk to school;and observe elderly ladies as they patiently wait for the bus. While refreshing, the experience is equally humbling. Continuing down the block, gentrified neighborhoods come into sight. High priced condos next to aged row homes, graffiti ridden liquor stores, next to Victorian architecture, the picture is unsettling. My thought process confused to how anguish and prosperity exist in the same setting.
The gates of Howard University mark the end of my journey, the feeling you receive when entering Howard is a special one. After parking my car, I throw the overweight security guard the deuces, and he reciprocates. I enter the building and board the elevator with several colleagues whom exchange half-hearted hellos, coupled with in genuine body language. The discomfort of being in the workplace written all over their faces. The elevator bell rings indicating that I have arrived at my destination. An exchange of flirtatious smiles takes place between me and the secretary, I graciously keep it moving. Vibrant and confident, I enter my office 6 minutes late. Greeted by my supervisor the look on her face tells all, she is obviously unhappy. As I sit down at my desk, and begin to open several “I thought I told you” style email’s, I recline my chair, place my hands behind my head, and reflect on the entry level grind.
