This is my fourth semester of community college.
By now I have lots of cozy memories associated with that regular drive all by myself:
Glorious sunsets in the rear view mirror.
Watching summer turn to autumn turn to winter.
Leaves dancing across the asphalt and drifting against the curb.
Observing the suspended moon's changing shape from Tuesday to Thursday to Tuesday again.
Constellations and planets showing up bright as I drive away from the city lights.
Catching opossums in the headlights.
Christmas music on the radio.
Showing my ID to the soldier at the gate to the Air Force base.
The car's heater reaching my toes.
Feeling deeply reassured by Alan Alda's voice as I replay his audiobook for months.
The world starting to make sense again.
Thinking through difficult classes and celebrating academic victories.
Analyzing the strongly-accented English of all my foreign-born professors.
Singing my loudest with my favorite songs.
Rolling down the windows on mild days.
Taking the left turn too fast in my little Subaru.
Peach Snapple. Dove Dark Chocolate.
Coming home to people who love me.
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