Crossroads—2026-06-29 (Patreon)

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Chapter 3.1.11: SUMMER READING by Chloe Hastings

I officially finished my first year in NYU’s Master of Arts in Politics program, which sounds impressive until you see me staring at the same paragraph for fifteen minutes because my brain would rather think about barbecue.

Memphis probably deserves some blame. Caleb and I went down for Paul and Rebecca’s wedding and Emma and Noah’s wedding, both held at the same church, one after the other. It was beautiful, slightly surreal, and somehow efficient. There were also more amazing meals than I can list, including Central BBQ, which may have permanently raised my standards for pulled pork.

Now I’m back in New York and working about twenty-five hours a week at a small neighborhood market near Union Square. It isn’t connected to my degree, and I’m not pretending it is.

I enjoy it for what it is. In one shift, I might see an exhausted nurse, a man buying one lemon and nothing else, three students debating pasta sauce like foreign policy, and someone in a suit who considers sparkling water an emergency. It is a broad, affectionate sample of New York humanity.

Caleb’s and my lease is up at the end of July, and we have decided not to renew it. The plan is to move into two of the micro apartments at Crossroads. Separate front doors, shared friends, and no argument over whose turn it is to clean the bathroom. Honestly, it may be the most mature decision either of us has made.

Today I’m off from the market, which means I have assigned myself one serious goal: finish another chapter in a text for next fall. Not skim it. Not underline three sentences and reward myself with social media. Actually read it, take notes, and understand why institutions keep producing outcomes nobody claims to want.

I have coffee, a quiet apartment, and several uninterrupted hours.

In theory, I am unstoppable.

In practice, Caleb just asked whether I want to go to Brooklyn for lunch.

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