Staring at my code, it glares back at me with errors. The answer I’m looking for is somewhere between the lines but I just can’t seem to find it.
I diverted my gaze from my computer for the first time in hours and checked my phone. “6:09 PM” I read aloud. The clock on my phone felt like it had attacked me. After I woke up around nine, I moved four feet to my desk to begin coding and haven’t stopped since. Even for lunch, I didn’t have to move. My canned soup and can opener was within an arm’s reach.
It was an early evening after a long morning of unsuccessful coding. I have a computer science project due in a day that wasn’t close to being done. My partner isn’t putting any time in and what seemed like our project started to feel like my project.
I couldn’t decide whether I was thankful I didn’t have any other homework to turn in by the end of the day. I could spend more time on my code and work out the bugs but part of me almost wants to do other homework. Any reason to do something different at this point would suffice. I didn’t want to spend any more time on the project than I needed to.
Spending the day coding reminded me of last semester and how I dreaded every moment. I wasn’t motivated to do anything and synonymously felt like there was nothing to be motivated for. Every day was the same; I woke up, traveled four feet to my desk, had class at my desk, ate lunch at my desk, did homework at my desk, and then traveled the same four feet back to my bed. There was never any incentive to leave due to the pandemic nor was there anything challenging that excited me.
I pulled myself together and mustered up the little ambition I had to fix my code. I spent about 30 minutes coding before I noticed that I blinked at most twice since I last looked away from my computer. My eyes were bloodshot red and each new blink felt like a commitment. The pain of rolling my eyelids over my dried-out eyes was borderline unbearable but I forced myself to push through it.
My phone vibrated, pulling my attention away from my computer. I received a text from my boyfriend asking how I am doing and if I have a moment to FaceTime. I jumped at the opportunity to do anything other than code. Without question, I picked up my phone to call him.
“Hey handsome!” he says with a hint of a smile. I reply with “hey” back and ask him how his day was. He told me about his day at work and the new construction that’s being done at his workplace. It reminded me of the first time we met up last month in Midland for the weekend. We cooked dinner together, watched Netflix together, and did other early couple things together. It was the weekend before the semester started and the last time I felt happy in the moment. I had no real obligations and could let myself feel free.
“How was your day?” he asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
“It was okay, I just did some coding,” I said. I let my part of my coding frustration through and let it dictate the tone of my response. He asked me if everything was alright and I told him about my day in more detail, explaining the bugs and errors I was getting. I knew that most of what I was saying didn’t make sense to a 54 year old historian, but it felt good to talk about it.
“Well I think you should go for a walk,” he said cheerfully.
“A walk? What do you mean by a walk? It’s like 8:30 and it’s snowing outside,” I replied.
“Yeah, it’ll be good for you. You haven’t stretched your legs all day mister,” he says cheerfully again. I was reluctant to go on a walk and even more reluctant to go outside when it’s snowing. I joke with my friends that I would happily take 104 degree weather over 24 degree weather anyday. The cacti I keep on my desk reminds me of how I wish I went to Arizona for college. There’s never any snow and their “winter” is sunny and 65 degrees.
Going on a walk is the last thing I wanted to do but I suppose it was better than coding. I find it funny that I thought of considering doing one awful activity to avoid doing a different awful activity. But through debating whether or not I would actually go on a walk, I decided that it’s the best thing I could do at the moment.
After ending my FaceTime call, I bundled up in my long, dark winter jacket and boots. I seldom wear gloves and a scarf but knew that if I was going to go, I needed to go all out. After bundling up, I felt like the kid from the movie “A Christmas Story” who couldn’t move his arms because of how many layers he was wearing.
I left my room and made my way to the apartment door. My roommate, Lincoln, stopped me on the way out, and in his deafening loud voice asked, “What are you up to tonight!” He was always yelling and never spoke at normal volume. I wasn’t in the mood to explain myself and merely mentioned that I was just going on a walk.
I headed down the elevator to the first floor of the apartment but before leaving, the fitness center caught my eye. It was a low-budget apartment gym with some treadmills and an off brand Peloton bike. I got on one of the treadmills and started walking at a comfortable pace. I didn’t know why, but I rationalized that I should warm my legs muscles on the treadmill before heading outside.
I looked over to my left at the wall mirror and noticed how ridiculous I looked. Exercising in outdoor winter clothes was an odd sight but it wasn’t the first time I’ve viewed myself as different. I let out a small chuckle realizing how dumb I must look to others. It took me a second but I noticed that for the first time today, I had smiled and felt a little happy.
After walking about a half-mile’s worth of distance, I figured my legs were warm enough to brace the cold blizzard that awaited me outside. In the rare instance that I go out on walks, I try to pick a new route and tonight was no exception. I left the apartment and was immediately greeted by the sharp, icy wind against my face. I couldn’t decide whether I was more offended by the wind or the snow that had already gotten into my boots.
After heading south a couple blocks, I turned left onto a skinny back street. What should have taken a minute or two at most turned into five. There were easily ten or more inches of snow on the ground and each step took an immense amount of effort.
There was a six story parking structure at the end of the street and I thought it would be interesting to incorporate it as part of my new route. The inside of the parking structure didn’t have any snow which was a big plus since it meant I could walk more comfortably. It didn’t really matter though because my boots were already filled with snow.
I settled on a plan of making it to the top of the structure, not by taking the stairs, but by walking up each layer individually. It was as if I was a vehicle that had to drive up to the top. I chuckled thinking about how child-like it was to think of myself as an automobile but I didn’t mind having simple thoughts. I felt so brain dead from concentrating on coding all day that any simple, fun thought came with relief.
At the second to last level before the top, snow started to cover the ground again. With each step, the level of snow beneath my feet started to rise. I continued the last leg of my journey and trekked to the peak.
My simple idea of reaching the summit of the structure was nothing short of a surreal experience. With the darkness, snow fall, and low hanging clouds, I couldn’t see more than 50 feet in front of me. For such an open space, the environment felt very compressed and intimate. It was just me, a couple parking structure lights, and the whistling of the wind. I was alone but did not feel alone.
I admired the environment for some time before letting the inner kid in me break free. I used my index finger and wrote fun phrases in the snow. I made snowballs and threw them over the edge into the void below. I ran as fast as I could through the snow, tripping every few steps.
I paused for a moment to catch my breath and noticed that the snow looked very deep on the other side of the platform. I made my way over and plopped down in snow at the thickest part. Rolling over onto my back, I naturally assumed the snow angel position. I didn’t move my arms or legs but the weight of my body let me sink into the snow. I wiggled some and continued to let the snow bury me until only my head was poking through. I looked straight up into the sky and opened my eyes wide. The snow above me seemed to fall everywhere but my face, but I did not mind. The cold air against my eyes felt amazing.
I was comfortable in the snow and forgot about the world. The thick snow was a sensory deprivation tank. I couldn’t feel any part of the body nor hear sounds around me. My mind opened up and I could see myself clearly in ways I had not prior. I noticed the unnecessary negative attitude I was carrying; an attitude that I’ve been carrying since I started college. As a kid, I let myself be myself and feel happy and after college started, I closed myself off and felt discontent. Laying in the snow and allowing myself some time to think, I concluded that I didn’t want to be melancholic anymore.
The snow started to cover my face and pulled me from my thoughts. I got up slowly, headed down the parking structure using the stairs, and made my way back into the apartment building.
Once I entered my unit, Lincoln greeted me with a loud “Where did we go!” I smiled and gave him a synopsis of my walk.
Back in my room, I undressed myself from my winter clothing and sat back at my desk. I still had coding to do before I could go to bed but it didn’t bother me like it had prior. I knew the answer I was looking for is somewhere between the lines and with some determination, I know I’ll be able to solve it. I was motivated to do well on it and keep an optimistic perspective. My attitude was much more positive and I felt content.
Anonymous | Winter 2021 | Ann Arbor, Michigan