You throw your jacket on crooked and smash the backs of your tennies with your feet as you grab your toast and run out of your small cluttered apartment. You hobble down the stairs, and you bag of supplies weighs you down lopsided. Your backpack sloshes, smacking walls as you turn, threatening to throw itself from its gravitational pull and let inertia carry it to space... Or shift its orbit and knock you down the stairs.
You get to the door and pause, then begin shifting... Score! You've reached metal. Except, at that moment the door is jammed into your hip as three rambunctious kids laugh up to their floor. Using your foot to jam the door and your forearm to comfort your side, you briskly begin your trek down the already bustling sidewalk. You take a decisive bite of that toast being squashed in your hand, and a neighbor smiles as they pass.
Since the toast is long gone once you arrive, you take your first step and a deep breath through the doorway, straightening your jacket. A small grin tugs at the corners of your mouth as you continue on your first day.
You reminisce down the halls, wondering how it will feel to be on the other end of the spectrum today.
You reach your room and settle into the almost comfortable desk chair, taking note of the necessary repairs, and begin to unpack...
And realize you've brought the wrong bag.
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