Missing: Structure

I am adjusting.

At least that is what I tell myself when I eat breakfast in the small kitchen that is not Kensington #12.

Out of everything that I am adjusting with, the hardest seems to be the lack of enrollment in school. The only time that I haven't started school in September have been the two years that I was in Mexico. And believe me, if I could have taken classes there, then I would have. My mind doesn't know what to do. I have read three books already, watched multiple movies, hung out with new friends, worked dozens of hours, and yet I still long for my classes.

I have always loved school. Going to kindergarten in the morning meant that I got to ride the bus with Megan George and Zack Kreft. We were the only students who were allowed to ride the bus. Sometimes my mom would pick me up after and we would go grocery shopping. We always went to Waremart for their potato skins. I had a crush on the librarian Bunny, and always visited her on the steps where they showed Reading Rainbow. Grant Olsen was my grandparent's neighbor, and even when I received a truancy for leaving school, I still was one of his favorites. I remember calling my mom from Nelda's office multiple times a year asking if I could dye my hair blue for field day or walk home with Brian and Joe. She always said yes. I loved the map we painted on the asphalt. The lunch tables that pulled out of the wall. The snake we fed mice to in Mrs. Streubel's classroom. The love notes exchanged between Camie and I pretending to be Zack Morris and Kelly Kapowski. And the basketball practices where my dad coached me and my best friends.

When I went to Franklin, I thought I was grown up, when in reality, I was the shortest seventh grader in the school. Apparently puberty never got the memo, and I graced the cover of the yearbook with the tallest girl in the school. Mr. Robinson was not only the first black man I ever talked to, but was the only professor who physically threw me against a locker in eighth grade. That brought my first and only meeting with the principal. Having seven different teachers who seem to all write the exact same thing on your report card was in no way coincidence. I always wondered how I could get straight A's while receiving comments like 'talks too much in class,' and 'very disruptive.' I guess I learned to multi-task at a very young age. Walking to Goody's on half-days. Starting seminary with Brother Bowman. Receiving pizza from Mr. Lane at Paige's party. Acing the Africa and Asia packets for Mrs. Reed. Scoring the first seven points on the B team basketball team. Traveling to other Jr. High's for athletic events. Going to class with your cousins. And receiving my first kiss in a hallway meant that I was a true Panther.

When Brigham Young put his cane in the ground and said 'this is the place,' I think he was really talking about Highland High School, and not the Salt Lake Valley. At the time, it was the equivalent of the celestial kingdom. I longed to be there more than anything else. I distinctively remember my first day of high school, when we were finally allowed to leave campus and eat. We went to Wendys of course, and later that day we drove over to the Hansen's house. The girls we hardly knew quickly became 'our girls' for the next three years. We did everything with them. There was never a day that I didn't look forward to going to school. Rather than walk the three blocks, I chose to drive the white pontiac. Why? Because it fit all six of us when we would have our lunch groups. The dances. Student government conferences. Nalgenes. Bracelets that covered Sarah's arms. Drives through the reservation with walkie-talkies. Daily sleepovers at the Wildes. Countless games of sting. Senior trip to Glenns Fairy. And night after night of water ballooning cars/houses. My greatest friendships were made during those years and I realized that I don't need a ten year reunion to keep in touch with any of them. Just recently, Taryn's dad passed away after a very long battle with cancer. The night I found out, I texted the ten or so members of "our crew." We all live far away and most of them are married - some even too each other - and within minutes, we had planned what we wanted to do to help show our support. The only other time I remember us all talking and agreeing on something was a certain bonfire we had before graduation.

After graduation came BYU. I didn't always want to go there. It wasn't in my plans. But somehow I ended up there, living outside of the dorms as a freshman, and trying to adjust to the life of a college student. I grew to love the atmosphere. The devotionals. The close proximity of the students. Yes, even the honor code. After returning home from Mexico, I jumped right back in, making even better friends. Ones that understood my anxiety with my general classes and the weird dating scenarios. I grew into myself, realized what I wanted, and dated some of the greatest people I have ever met. Obviously they didn't feel the same way. However, my college experience has been one big trial and error. A time of self-discovery. Laughter. Stress. And Accomplishment. Different jobs were worked and skills developed. The four years have been the greatest in my life and I don't really think I am willing to give them up just yet.

Like I said, my life has only known school. For 17 years. And today I am wishing that I was wrapping up another first day of class, and walking home from campus while telling my parents about my classes and what the next four months will entail.

If I have learned something from each educational phase of my life, it is that school is a routine. A routine that I anticipated every morning. One that meant I would always have something to accomplish. A routine that brought new friends and new experiences.
A routine that grew to become a structure that my life was built around.

Today I don't have that. And it is disheartening.

My adjustment isn't hard because I have moved to a new place.
It is hard because i have lost my structure.

My goal for the next few months is to find a new one. I wonder if Ellen Page will build me one. Replicated after the ones in Inception.
If anyone has her number, I'd love to text her.