“You took forever!” the woman exclaimed when her number was finally called. The nurse smiled and said, “Welcome to the health department”. I sat uncomfortably for more than two hours to get a TB test. The lines were long. Little children screamed and yelled; I wanted them to shut up.
After an unsuccessful appointment that ended up being rescheduled, I left the health building. I had to walk home in the snow since Mom had to catch a class. I felt awkward walking by myself, crossing the street, and eating alone at a grocery store. I’m not used to doing things alone. I’m not used to ordering food alone. I ate a cold turkey sandwich, uneasily looking around at other tables. Then I walked to the nearest Barnes & Noble book store, rummaged books that I had no intention of reading, flipped through a Vogue and Vanity Fair magazine, while occasionally glancing at the Starbucks near the register. I felt unsure as I walked. I felt uncertain, in doubt, as if I were no longer in my own body. Was I afraid to be alone? Was it fear or unfamiliarity? Why is it so hard for us to be alone, unaccompanied? Why is it that in the presence of others, we manage to feel confident and relaxed? How do we get used to ourselves?