Damage

Chapter 19

It’s strange to think that almost 2 weeks have passed since I first got here. Part of me feels as if it’s been longer, so much has happened. But the other half of me feels like I’ve been at Columbia for barely 5 minutes.

The days have passed in a blur – a jumble of hours spent in the library, phone calls, the droning voices of professors and scrambled words on paper, scuttling across the lines like spiders running from the foot of an angry housewife.

 Freedom (Amartya Sen)

Process Aspect ­– Ability to act on behalf of what matters (agency); Institutions, movements, democratic patience

Opportunity Aspect ­– Real opportunity to achieve valued functionings, selected from among various good possibilities (capability)

I put my head in my hands and look over my notes in a kind of apathetic torpor. If my mind weren’t in a million other places, I would be able to focus, I’m sure of it.  But right now, it seems pointless.

Since what happened on Sunday, I’ve been doing all I can to keep myself busy. 

Thankfully, each day has been filled with classes and readings and lecture notes to go over.  Most of my time has been spent in the library, my dorm or the cafeteria and I’m a little grateful for the mundane nature of it all. Keeps me from thinking about other things.

My tuition is covered by my scholarship but I need extra money and having a job with the work/study program has kept me relatively busy - even though they’ll only allow me to work in the library 10 hours a week. It’s easy work at a small library in one of the residential colleges and it gives me a place to study. Most of the people who come are here to study as well and all my job entails is watching over the place and checking out books occasionally.

Having a roommate like Emily who has connections through her brother (who graduated last year) helped me strike it lucky with my job. Others aren’t so fortunate.

Jin from my Contemporary Civilizations seminar is on food service while Victoria Nussbaum from my Literature Humanities seminar works in the big library on campus and has to do hours of organizing.

This library is open from 6 to 10 and I stayed here the full 4 hours Monday and Tuesday which means I’m only allowed to work until 8 today.  It pays me $4 an hour, which means $40 a week, and I couldn’t be happier for the amount of money, no matter how small. 

Back home, I could manage to stretch $40 from here to kingdom come, but in New York it’s not so easy. I always send half of it to Mom and Jake and that means $20 for myself to last me the week. 

Even though all my meals are paid for, it’s a struggle trying to make use of a bit less than $3 a day in New York. But in a way it’s nice, because the city always gives you little ways to make it.

As busy as I am, even so, I can’t stop thinking about Luke and I don’t like it. Each time I think about him, it nearly makes my skin crawl. Blaire’s laugh and his cruel indifference incessantly echoes in my mind and reminds me of how credulous and naïve I can be. I shouldn’t be as shocked as I am, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling hurt and illuded.

Emily told me he was bad news and she was probably right all along. But still, the overly trusting side of me believes differently.

I look up at the clock behind the librarian’s desk and see that it’s 5 minutes before 8 and nearly time for the other girl who works here (Stacey, a sophomore) to take over.

I take my earphones out and pack up my books and notes while my music plays soft and muffled from the small earbuds.

“Fleetwood Mac?” a low and slightly husky voice asks me from behind.