Unsolved Rubik’s Cube
Every year in the first couple weeks of school, I’ve always struggled with the “All About Me” Assignments. Upon meeting a new person, I would consider myself quite “ordinary,” if not basic. I sacrifice almost all of my free time for school work, where my other time I have is for some basic necessities like eating, and hygiene. Over time, I’ve started to devote most of my time to school work, putting effort into every little assignment I did, even though most of the time teachers only assigned them to keep us busy. This habit stuck with me, which is both a good and bad thing. Even at times where I may have no motivation to do something, once I commit to the assignment, I will always put in the time needed to put quality into an assignment, not just complete it. “Quality not quantity.”
In a Rubik’s Cube, each turn will affect the outcome of whether or not you get closer to solving it. One wrong turn, you scramble it even more, and most of the time, one doesn’t even realize because they’re mindlessly trying to solve it. This is the same for when I’m doing school work. I don’t try to pass time by doing assignments, time always seems to pass me. Quality takes time. Meaning, the more effort I put into an assignment, the longer another assignment gets delayed, ultimately leading me to sit for long hours, and most of the time losing my sleep, for something that could’ve been easily finished in half the time I put in.
Home
Home is my safe place. Home is where I can feel warm, and be comfortable being myself. I’ve learned that home isn’t always a designated place, it’s what you associate with it. One of my greatest fears is inevitable change, and feeling raced against time, such as having to choose what I want to do with my life as I grow older. What scares me the most about these fears, is how you can never be sure what exactly will happen. Spending time with those I cherish the most has helped me understand to simply enjoy the moment. Even though it is not much, I’ve learned that home is where I can grow at my own pace too.
Freezing Time
In elementary, a memorable thing I would always do with my best friend is cloud watching during recess. Despite usually only having 15 minutes left of recess because I took so long to eat, it was always the best part of the school day. The massive field would always have people playing with a ball or frisbee, but nonetheless there was always somewhere empty, quiet, and not full with people. We would often hang out near the giant tree that would provide enough shade for a class of about 30 students to just run around and play. There, we would take off our jackets, and lay our heads down while our backs touched the cold grass beneath the tree. The playful screaming and yelling of the other kids became distant as the light breeze brushed on our faces.
“That cloud over there looks like a mermaid!” I would say excitedly.
Just as excited, my friend would add on “If you turn your head upside down, it looks like she’s swimming with a hat too!”
I would laugh at how she looked like a monkey, and did the same, “OHH YEAH I SEE IT!”
National Cookie Day
Upon meeting a new friend and going over to their house, I feel like there should always be some kind of nervousness unless you’re already close with them and their parents. However, that nervousness simply did not exist to a kindergartener. It became a routine for me to go over to my friend’s house everyday after school, and my mom would pick up at a later time after she was done with work. Everyday we would both rush to use the bathroom and then wash our hands.
My friend and I would sit at the tiny square table and foot stools, eating our “second lunch” after school. As much as I did not enjoy eating because I was a slow eater, I could confidently say there was never a dull day at her house. Once in a while, her mom would pull out a large white bucket of chocolate chip cookie dough from the freezer. We would exchange eye contact at the same time, and squeal in happiness with our mouths wide open. Every time we had cookies at her house, we named it “National Cookie Day.”
I wonder if we ever called it on the correct day.
My Little Garden
I had a childhood “garden” that was about a five to ten minute walk from my house. I miss my old neighborhood. My cousin who lived 3 houses away from me on the same street would come to one of each other’s houses almost everyday. On a random morning or afternoon, my grandma would walk us there while our parents were busy at work. The stair railings and everything on the colorful metal structure were almost always too hot to touch, so we ran robotically, but constantly up the stairs of my “garden.” There were also two different sets of slides, to which we would try to go down quickly because it slightly burned our pants, and repeated the process again. To the point where we would be exhausted, my favorite was when we would retreat to the spring animals that were shaded to cool us down.
A few years later after I moved out of my neighborhood, I visited for Christmas. It could’ve been because of all the times I’ve always been there I’ve felt carefree, but it really was just a generic playground. However, that feeling of joy every time I think of the times I’ve been at My Little Garden will probably always stick with me.
Write Our World 