A strong gust of winds hits her when she steps out the door. Today is not a good day, Beatrice decides. She texts the bus app, but the closest bus is 16 minutes away. She steps into a snow bank and it’s 3 minutes away and she runs for it and the driver closes the doors right in her face. The anger when her legs burn and she makes the fifteen minute trek, knowing that driver saw her. What if he had a bad day? Well, she was having a bad day. The Q train finally pulls into the station with a grating sound. There’s an event, and an interview—oh, two events, but then the homework won’t get done. The man across from her sits with his legs spread and takes up an entire seat. Carol Williams, an elderly woman standing next to him, stares wistfully at the small space. She glances at Beatrice, thinking, “Why won’t she give up hers?” but Beatrice is too busy staring at her phone. “Oh, the youth,” she thinks. So, okay, event, event, “Did you turn off the heating?” Mom asks, but she forgot…again. “It takes two seconds!” Mom says, but it’s summer and her jacket feels heavy. Her hair swings against her shoulders and she has no hair tie to pull it back. “14th St-Union Sq,” and her hair prickles against her neck as she cuts someone off on the staircase. 6 train delay, again, waiting twenty minutes in stiff business clothes in July. “My weaknesses? Well, I would say they are…” There’s a bustle in the Baruch lobby; she sidesteps straggling students. The assignment won’t get done tonight.