Balancing act

I was awoken by a call from my mother:
"I was calling to see if you were walking at graduation so I would know if I should come up or not."
"No. I didn't want to waste money on a cap and gown for no reason."
"I would have paid for it."
"I just didn't think there was any point."

I have a cap and gown that I borrowed from my then-boyfriend two years ago and I fully intend to walk at graduation. It was the first time I'd talked to her since Easter.

I missed the last karaoke of the school year chasing a pipe dream up and down the streets of Kirksville and to the bottom of a bottle of Bacardi Razz. The memory of it faded as it happened and that was sobering enough, but it was something I had to find out anyway.

But I got hired as a lifeguard at the aquatic center, I was a model for one of the seven deadly sins, and my printmaking professor said that the t-shirt I made for my open project was one of the best he'd ever seen in his time at Truman. So somehow I feel that I've broke even.