Common App Essay Essay - Harvard University

Some people study best at the library. Others occupy a corner in a coffee shop where inspiration and creativity flow with cappuccino. Personally, I do some of my best work while sipping a one dollar plus tax McIced Tea at a plastic table on which my laptop and a book rest. The subtle scent of grease fills my nose and the shouting of order numbers rings in my ears. I've found an unconventional place of contentment beneath the Golden Arches. I'm home alone on a hungry summer night when I discover the McDonald's near my high school. The refrigerator is empty, preventing me from cooking, so I decide to become Mickey D's daily customer number sixty million and blank. I walk in, order food, and sit down to chow. In the middle of my feast, I realize that there is nothing on my mind but my surroundings and my stomach. I'm completely at ease; no pretension exists in this global franchise that has more stores in the world than people in my town. I briskly walk out to my car, grab a book, and return to study for a few hours that I've realized were some of the most restful yet productive I had had for a long time. I've spent many more hours at McDonald's since, usually just to use the space to work or even just meditate on weekends that might otherwise have been lazy. I don't claim that McDonald's is the perfect place to be. The commotion of the kitchen and indelible buzzing of pop music often make it hard to do things like appreciate the structure of certain biochemicals or follow local politics. When a high pitched voice begging for a McFlurry interrupts Charlotte Brontë's beckoning for me to decipher the symbolism behind a lightning-struck chestnut tree, I'm whizzed from the English countryside back to this American burger joint. But I defend my newfound habitat despite its imperfections. While attention-catching sights and sounds sometimes divert my attention, they've helped me to work by forcing me to focus harder. Better yet, I've found meaningful the array of diversions I've experienced, from a conversation with my quirky, retired seventh grade English teacher about how fast (not quick, he had taught me) life passes by, to companionship with employees here like Milly, who works the cash register, and Maureen, the manager. As far as why I've settled on McDonald's as my choice of refuge, the only other two fast food restaurants in my town don't have adequate places to sit, the town library has short hours, and my thrift prevents me from frequenting the local coffee shop. McDonald's has two sittings areas with power plugs at every table, is open 19 hours a day, 7 days a week, and has a quite tasty dollar menu. For this, McDonald's speaks to me. Sometimes, I put down my pencil or stop typing into a Google Doc to just appreciate the simple utility of the location in a sort of wistful way. I see my life as a sort of quest to find ultimate authenticities, and while I know that there will be more truths to discover and that they will most certainly be more difficult to find, my being content at McDonald's is one conclusive victory. Physicist Richard Feynman once described the world as a "dynamic mess of jiggling things." He was referring to the literal behavior of the atomic world, but I believe that the modern, macroscopic world, where even watches and glasses will soon bombard us with stimuli, fits this description just as well. With so many things jiggling in front of us, it's becoming harder and harder to focus, stop moving, and simply be content. I've learned that contentment can exist in imperfect and unforeseen places when you simply observe your surroundings, adapt, and maybe even eat a french fry.