Still, through ice and fog and freezing rain, I made it to the home that will at least nominally be mine for something like the next four months. It's a huge old place, a sprawling 1970s mansion placed inexplicably in the middle of a modern housing development. Its residents are a septet of young Christian men who have charged me a suitably charitable rent, and I'm eager to repay that gift with courtesy. I'd consider it a blessing if I could make any new friends along the way.
Tomorrow morning I'll get up at six o'clock--something that's been unfathomable to me since high school ended eight years ago--and practice the arduous commute into Marble City, a trek I hope time will tame. My biggest single obstacle, and my biggest source of anxiety, will be arriving at the train station and finding parking. If I can do that I know everything else will be fine.
And then there's the internship itself. It's only two days a week, but those two days loom large in my mind. I hope I'll learn all I need to learn. I hope I'll do all I need to do. This could be a gateway to my future, and I'm thankful for the chance to open it.
