Regradation

Graduation with the syllables whistled with the phoenetics intertwining is heard as gradation. After my graduation, I was with my sister on the greens on Goucher's lush campus, and my adviser spoke with me dressed in an ignoble faculty gown. She advised I speak with career development, after my hard years at school with no advice for post graduate work, I assume because my course work was substandard. My sister, after all she does to assist, had nothing to discourse.

I am smart, I thought, but should take some time off. I work too hard. I work until I feel sick. And after twelve months of being out of college, I had been in the hospital for a sickness of hard work, and dumb persevering heroism. So stumbling on campus, and I say stumble because I have been having balance problems. I can walk veering slightly leftwards, but standing in the same place, or distraction and my mind goes blank. I am falling, not failing.

I'd describe the experience as follows. If I close my eyes, and I know someone is there to catch me, I cannot fall. It's not that I don't trust, it's just that my mind has too much acumen. I'm too bright.

I saw Caitlin on campus today, but did not remmember her name, just that I knew her. She told me, she remembered the name of the dog, and Laura Orem strolled past with her dog, Lylo. I thought she meant me, or something I wrote, about a dog, anyhow. Well, the dog's name was Bette. It's a dog eat dog world, or a man eat dog, eats man world, which was the moral to the short short fiction.

I delivered the letter to the Graduate studies department that was meant for Fred Mauk, which was accepted by an Office deskman. Then deciding to go home, rather than remember the girl whom I could not, because she looked younger than I remembered, and she is my age, most likely thinks I'm a drug addict, or sleep addict, because I feel terrible. Walking on campus after graduation, is like regradation, it just isn't right.

I thought about the dog's story, and had a 3'5' disk with some old files. Deciding to see the contents, I drove back to Goucher thinking their computers must be old, a little bit of public school knowledge, all schools have old hardware. The library was busy. I was dizzy. Walking through the upstairs, seeing the sign on the writing center door with a classroom full, where the computers once were. I walked down the stairs leading to the first floor from the opposite direction that I came from. As I walked around the corner to the adjoining room, I sped up on my feet and when I came to a stop, almost fell down. A faculty member came up to me, almost staring right at me, and I was caught off guard and busied myself with the computers there, which had no 3'5' drive. I kept on walking out the next room full of people, which seemed to all stare at me from glowing monitor screens, and across the big room, sped out the door where the air was calm and cool.

I tested the files at the public library and the data was nothing interesting. The Real Thing was Open. The guy that works there was pretty mad. He said the window glass had been broken in, and I didn't hear properly. It took me a moment, and he was spinning some, like everything else. "Oh," I said, "I couldn't tell walking outside. I have nine dollars," I told him, "Can I get fries, drink and gyro?"

"Sure," he said, "One Hero."

"Cheesesteak," I said, "I meant cheesesteak, fries and a drink."

"9.50," he said, "That will come close to 10.00 with tax," he said.

"What can I get for 9.00 dollars?," I asked.

"I'll give you a cheesesteak and a drink," he said, "What drink do you want?"

"Coke," I said, "For here," because it was cold outside. I sat down and watched the television news. He went to the back of the store and was carrying a pane of glass, and then went to the stove. The meat sizzled and the meal was satisfying.

I tossed the trash and exited The Real Thing. The glass was all along the front of the store. He said, "I had an extra pane there just in case, so there is still glass like," he gestured over to the neighbor, "like that window over there, see?"

"Yes," I said.

"Exactly," he said, "Who would do this? Crazy people," he said.

"That's exactly right," I said, and waved and walked off. I should have asked for work, but honestly, I was too distracted, and as soon as I looked him in the eye, I started to fall over. It's not that I don't trust him, it's just I can't really trust.