Someday We’ll Make Smoothies

If you didn’t live in commuting range, it was mandatory at my college—and with very few exceptions—to live on campus and have a meal plan throughout the duration of your studies. And while this isn’t a post shaming the food service workers at the school (some of kindest people who were always quick with a smile or a joke) we did, naturally, tire of the rigidity of requirement. 

I have a clear, clear memory of talking with my roommate about what it would be like to live in our own apartments and go grocery shopping for our own fresh food. It occasionally veered into what we might make with our own kitchens but it always came back to smoothies.

Some day, we’ll make smoothies, we said. Some day, we’ll go to the store and get fresh fruit and all kinds of healthy, delicious smoothie materials. And we’ll make smoothies whenever we want. 

This month marks ten years since we graduated. I have made and consumed many, many smoothies. 

After almost every morning run, my tiny blender fills with frozen berries and fresh bananas. Vegan protein powder and cinnamon. Nut butter sometimes or flax seed or hemp hearts. Spinach if we have it. Soy or almond milk. Most mornings, I pour the purple or green or pink drink into a mug and sip it slowly through a reusable straw. Nowadays, I hardly give it a thought. It is simply my breakfast routine.

But once, I dreamt of smoothies. 

Those days, smoothies and stocking my own fridge was as fun and independent as I could imagine. And while the takeaway on this may at first appear to be, dream a little bigger, darling, I can’t help but wonder if my lesson is one rooted rather in appreciation. 

If ever I feel I’m not where I want to be, I only need look back and see how far I’ve come.