My room barely fit a mattress, a desk, and a metal clothing rack. The paint peeled near the window. The floor slanted, so my chair rolled backward unless I wedged a book beneath one wheel.
But rent was cheap.
Cheap meant possible.
Possible meant enough.
My alarm rang at 4:30 every morning. By 5:00, I was unlocking Sunrise Bean, a campus café that smelled like espresso, sugar glaze, and wet coats when it rained. I learned drink orders faster than I learned the campus map. Smile. Repeat. Smile when someone snapped because their latte was late. Smile when my feet hurt. Smile when I had studied until one in the morning.
Classes filled the rest of the day. Economics. Statistics. Freshman writing. Public policy. I sat near the front and took notes like every sentence might save me. Other students skipped when they were tired. I showed up with chills once because missing class meant paying later for what I did not know.
