The betweens

Gracie Eppler

I used to be a good reader.

I think most people expect me to be now. but admittedly, though I love to read, I’m not good at it anymore.

The nightstand near my bed is piled high with novels I promise to one day finish.

A friend asks if I’ve read “Fahrenheit 451,” “malibu rising” or “The brothers Karamazov.” I say I haven’t gotten to it yet. Another asks if I’ve seen “Whiplash” or “new Girl” yet, and I assure her it’s next on my list. my grandma wonders if I’ve looked through her old belongings she set out in a pile for me, and I tell her I haven’t gotten the chance.

It’s concerning now that my “To read” section of my Goodreads account has somehow surpassed my “have read” shelf.

somewhere between all these papers, social gatherings, interviews and extracurriculars, I’m meant to read 134 books, finish seven series, have lunch with three ceos and still make time to read The new York Times daily briefing.

somewhere between dining hall breakfasts, 18 credits, dance rehearsals and library shifts, I’m meant to make meals with four different friends, practice the piano and call my sisters.

somewhere between eight o’clock exams and midnight deadlines, I’m meant to be well rounded, to have hobbies that extend beyond my schoolwork, to volunteer, to exercise, to eat right and to pray.

In the rare and quiet moments when I sit in this space between, I marvel at the warmth of it. how beautiful these scarce and soft betweens are, when my mind is no longer overwhelmed by all the things I need to do and instead focuses on what I’m currently doing.

“The best four years of my life,” an old nd alum assures me at a tailgate. he reminisces on snowball fights on south Quad, dome dances, laundry room debacles and the chaotic student section. never once does he mention midterms, internships or assignments. his college years weren’t measured by what he needed to do, but what he did in those moments between.

And yet, it’s always so difficult for me to switch up my routine. I tell a friend from class I can’t meet her for dinner because I can’t afford to spend