I had the most interesting feeling the other day. I got up from my bed and walked into the kitchen where I opened the fridge and took out the orange juice. I unscrewed the cap and gulped the sweet, tangy fluid straight from the carton. I was standing in the kitchen looking messy, curly-haired, with my underwear on, no pants, drinking from the orange juice carton. I felt like I was being filmed. I was a character in a film, not just Jane. Jane alone. Jane alone in her own apartment. Jane alone in her own apartment far away, thousands of miles away, from the people who know her and see her. I felt... emancipated. Free to leave the apartment completely a dump. Free to not make my bed in the morning. Free to walk around in my underwear. Free to drink right out of the carton. No cups or plates or utensils necessary in this new lifestyle. Hands and fingers all the way. Just kidding, but I did feel free. The feeling was both good and bad. The good is that no one will say or even know what you're doing and how free you are because you don't know anyone. The bad is that you feel terrible and sloppy and gross for letting yourself be that way.
