Meanwhile, back at the ranch
Danielle Stillman
Issue date: 10/30/07 Section: Opinion
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Wake up before 7 a.m. Shower, brush teeth hastily, run comb through hair and dress. Run out the door without breakfast. Study for an hour before class. Attend class, scribble notes, check and re-check midterm dates. Work for seven-plus hours, sometimes on multiple jobs. Grab nutrition-free fast food. Drive straight to library, work on paper, read assignments. Go home, collapse exhausted at 10:30 p.m. and sleep through night. Repeat.
My life has taken on a predictable pattern of Groundhog Day proportions. On top of that, I feel divided into different people. Dani the student has the usual quota of duties to fulfill; Dani the receptionist has to run scores of credit card transactions, attempt to calm down cranky customers and answer their sometimes preposterous questions.
In Houston, I go outside for two reasons: to walk to my car, and to shoot portraits when in my third identity as freelance photographer. Gardening, a pastime that I used to love, has fallen by the wayside, partly due to my cramped studio apartment with its concrete walks and no patch of land for me to cultivate. With so many obligations shouting for my attention, it is amazing I have time to be Dani the daughter, friend or companion.
All of my confusion melts away with the miles behind me when I flee the city limits and escape to my family's weekend home.
It is not a five-star resort. There is no Internet access, no dishwasher and no DVD player-just a fuzzy TV that barely gets a signal from Houston. I have to be constantly on guard for all manner of beasties that have taken up residence inside the house. A shower was installed during my lifetime, and just last year, we got rid of the landline since nobody really used it anymore in this age of cell phones.
Doing without so many modern conveniences may strike many as being unbearable. I made a trip up to the ranch with my sister and some friends earlier in the year. Two of the friends also had familial retreats, though once we arrived at the ranch, it was abundantly clear how different theirs were from ours. They ended up leaving for Houston early because there was no sushi or Starbucks in our tiny, central-Texas town.
My life has taken on a predictable pattern of Groundhog Day proportions. On top of that, I feel divided into different people. Dani the student has the usual quota of duties to fulfill; Dani the receptionist has to run scores of credit card transactions, attempt to calm down cranky customers and answer their sometimes preposterous questions.
In Houston, I go outside for two reasons: to walk to my car, and to shoot portraits when in my third identity as freelance photographer. Gardening, a pastime that I used to love, has fallen by the wayside, partly due to my cramped studio apartment with its concrete walks and no patch of land for me to cultivate. With so many obligations shouting for my attention, it is amazing I have time to be Dani the daughter, friend or companion.
All of my confusion melts away with the miles behind me when I flee the city limits and escape to my family's weekend home.
It is not a five-star resort. There is no Internet access, no dishwasher and no DVD player-just a fuzzy TV that barely gets a signal from Houston. I have to be constantly on guard for all manner of beasties that have taken up residence inside the house. A shower was installed during my lifetime, and just last year, we got rid of the landline since nobody really used it anymore in this age of cell phones.
Doing without so many modern conveniences may strike many as being unbearable. I made a trip up to the ranch with my sister and some friends earlier in the year. Two of the friends also had familial retreats, though once we arrived at the ranch, it was abundantly clear how different theirs were from ours. They ended up leaving for Houston early because there was no sushi or Starbucks in our tiny, central-Texas town.