Money is No Object

We recognize that every transfer students' experience is different, however, we know that many transfers face some of the same challenges as they transition into the university. This blog was created for transfers by transfers to share TIPS and insight on having the best semester you can at Texas A&M University.
    Posted on Monday, Oct 30, 2017
    It’s 3 pm, and I just finished my second exam of the day. I feel like I just dumped my entire brain out on a page, and now there’s nothing else. My whole body hurts because I didn’t sleep last night and I forgot to eat. I get in my car that I paid too much to park near my building. There’s only one thing that will repair the damage that the institution of higher education has done. I head to Target.
     
    As soon as the automatic doors open, I’m flooded with the scent of coffee, popcorn, and floor cleaner. I can feel myself beginning to come back to life. I am home again.
     
    I run my fingers over all of the little boxes and decorations in the $1-$5 section. I throw some pumpkins in my basket, because I deserve this.
     
    My body now floats immediately to the sweaters, as if some invisible force is pulling me. I feel each one to find the softest one before choosing the biggest size that I can put on my body without it dragging on the floor. This is the one. I throw 2 in my basket. One as my usual; one as a backup.
     
    As I walk, the clothes become much smaller. These are the clothes for the tiny humans. I don’t know any tiny humans. I pick out 3 onesies and 2 pairs of toddler overalls. I’ll need those in 20 years.
     
    The home goods are next. Do I need a shower curtain? Not particularly, but I’m going to look anyway just in case. I spot a marble toothbrush holder. I have 3 toothbrush holders sitting in my bathroom at home. I shrug and put it in my basket.
     
    This is going well. I am the pinnacle of productivity.
     
    Then my nose picks up a familiar smell. I follow it without hesitation until I reach the aisle that means most. I remove lid after lid, sniffing the pumpkin caramel and warm hearth candles. I throw in five that smell the most like the fall that doesn’t exist in Texas. This will fix everything.
     
    Do I need food? I have 6 cabinets full of edible items at home, but what if there’s another hurricane? I get pumpkin spice pancake mix, pasta, 2 pizzas, and macaroni and cheese. I am health. Health is me.
     
    I buy a stapler and some sharpies from the office supply section. I feel the hole in me start to fill. 
     
    I’ve never felt more alive.
     
    Still on my high, I rush to checkout so I can go home and layout all of my new items on my table and stare at them in admiration.
     
    “Hi, how are you?” asks the Target lady, obviously not perceptive to my blatant joy.
     
    “I’m good, thank you. How are you?”
     
    “Oh, I’m fine. Another day.”
     
    I am horrified. She works in the happiest place on earth next to Santa’s workshop.
    What a negative girl.
     
    “Your total is $135. 57.”
     
    *places my debit card back into wallet and pulls out my parents’ credit card*
     
    Sorry, dad. Money is no object at Target.
     
    I’ll put him in a very nice nursing home.
     
    By Megan Lafluer, College of Public Health
    Photo Attribution: nbc.com