Yesterday I woke up making out with notes that detailed the digestive system, lights on and everything. That was some good sleep. A glance at the clock put the time a bit past 4:30. The night before, a fight with a fly interrupted my studies and quite honestly, wore me out. On edge and out of breath, I just dozed off, grateful for the refuge and protection of my blanket. Needless to say, that put me behind. After showering and making a couple of peanut butter and honey sandwiches, I immersed myself in biology hoping to get some last minute studying in.
Recently I started catching the 6:30 Lee bus which affords me an additional hour or so of sleep. My mom apparently didn’t get the memo and continues to abuse our phone’s intercom capabilities at 5 in the morning. It’s been quite awesome: the buses are typically less crowded—well, more accurately, they’re less ghetto, seeing as I don’t have to deal with the shit that certain people dished out. More awesome, the fact that I no longer have to get up earlier than the sun does. I’ve always thought that asking anyone to get up before dawn is just cruel and unusual. I’ve been feeling more aware and energetic as of late, which is quite a change for the better.
Before, I would always be tempted to write about how much I hate Mondays, and by that I mean every day. Having to get up so early, wait in the cold for so long, and then endure the trials of the day all the while running on empty. Still, the early morning breeze and stillness of life is always reassuring after deboarding the Sarah bus at McPherson, walking towards a new day.
Last weekend I rearranged my room. It’s quite wonderful, what with my TV officially evicted, the reclaimed shelf space now being used for more books and magazine, and the shelves themselves serving as a headboard to my bed.
This has been a ramble. Good day.