I must be getting pretty easy to please. It's about 40°F outside, and sunny, and I feel so good. There are still three feet of snow lying about, but life seems so beautiful. Today is set to Ingrid Michaelson - hopeful and idealistic and mildly sweet and pleasant. I ran from the dorm to the school in my converse with my research paper in my hand.
It's warm. I swear it is.
I suppose it might also be the prospect of, oh, I don't know, one more day before break. My god, how we need it. Lots of parents - including at least one of my own - are coming up tomorrow to see J Term presentations and then lug us all home for a week. And how we need it. February has been sick and stressed and ugly, and I am excited to be shod of the learning part of it.
And, oh, Ms. Baker, I want to write you a really beautiful essay. I am pouring my heart into this clinical research assignment, because I love your class, I really do. It's a sort of escape from all the maths and the science and the stress and the competitiveness, and you work us hard, but I love it like water, need it like chocolate. And that's the point of English.
I've listened to Girl from the North Country about twenty times this afternoon already... it's like heartbreak, and it makes me so happy. Sorry, I'm all abstractions today...