The sun is shining! The sky is blue! And I’m stuck inside trying to memorize the difference between a B cell and a T cell. This is the life of a college student who, without summer classes, would never be able to graduate or get a job or move out of her parents’ house. Ever.
I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like my house. And my room. And my family, parents and sibling and furry whiskered friend included. But you really can’t be a kid forever, and I just lived through yet another birthday, so it’s about time to think about things like The Real World, and Money, and What to Do with a College Degree.
Thankfully as writers we have the power to use our own experiences to add significant color and depth to our stories. Jared and Ally just had a pretty deep conversation about whether or not they’re too young to be thinking about things like college applications, grocery shopping and bank accounts. They never came to a solid conclusion, though, and the conversation ended with the spontaneous decision to make hot chocolate at eleven o’clock at night.
They’re only seventeen. Not much of a crime if you ask me.
I spent most of my time writing this morning working on their relationship. When I’d finished that scene and was only a few hundred words short of my goal for the day (at 36,000 now, which hopefully means I can still reach 50,000 on time), I went back to another scene I’d left off at yesterday, trying to work on Kim and Patrick’s relationship – whatever that might be (even I’m not quite sure yet).
Patrick – he’s the one with the muffins (refer back to yesterday’s post if you’re confused). He’s suspicious of Kim all of a sudden, for the same reason Kim isn’t sure whether or not she’s romantically attracted to Jim, another co-worker: she’s a problem solver. Naturally. You can’t really blame her, because technically it’s in her job description. But most people don’t like it when someone walks into their life and offers a helping hand without hesitation.
Or, as Patrick put it, “[W]alk into someone’s office and offer them a granola bar in the middle of their lunch break.”
It’s the mother in her, Patrick, calm down. She never did get a chance to become one, after all.