New York City, NY — by Sabrina Choudhary
This story was originally published on New York University’s Washington Square News.
Without fail, each spring semester, a handful of my senior friends make “last first day of school” Instagram posts. It was my turn this year — this week, actually. But while I’m generally a sentimental person, I didn’t want to assign the day too much value.
COVID-19 has made me wary of putting too much weight on milestones, placing too much certainty on schedules. At the same time, the pandemic has made me more dependent on my classes — particularly in physical classrooms — for a routine, an excuse to leave my apartment, a way to socialize, a mental challenge and even a sense of purpose.
Though I hadn’t given it much thought, I was excited to return to campus this week. I’d be able to meet my peers, overanalyze where to sit — especially if pandemic rules mean permanent seat assignments — and find out whether my professor is nice. I wanted to make a good first impression and start the semester on the right foot.
Instead, my first impression to my professor was a pathetic email explaining that I couldn’t attend class because I had lost my phone.
The night before, I had taken a Lyft home from my friend’s apartment, and my phone slipped out of my pocket during the ride. I noticed as soon as I got inside, but it was too late. I frantically checked the street twice, turned my pockets inside out and emptied my tote bag before giving up for the night. There was nothing more I could do but console myself that, at the end of the day, I was safe and it was just a phone. I could live without it.
But, as it turns out, I couldn’t. At least not normally.
Read the rest of the story at Washington Square News.