January Vacation
After fifteen and a half years spent in a classroom, it's definitely weird to not be in school in January. It almost feels like I've just been sluffing all of my classes for an extended period of time. Except different. It was a strange adjustment at first, realizing that I didn't have to study physiology or do o chem problems, but that my time really belonged to me. While most of my friends are doing homework or stressing over midterms, I'm shopping, playing music, reading, writing, and relaxing in a completely homework-free environment. And I almost feel guilty for how much I am enjoying not having homework. (Although my subconscious doesn't seem to understand that I'm not in school right now and still entertains me with nightmares about failing tests. But, according to my physics professor, those dreams never really go away, so I'll cut my subconscious some slack.)
Despite loving being at home and not having homework, there are definitely some things I miss about school. Like my people. And - it's weird I'm saying this - Harold. (It's really quite depressing when you try to check out a book and the librarian tells you your library privileges expired three days ago on January 28th. Kind of like being kicked out of a second home or losing a good friend. Because Harold and I were tight. But I'll get over it.)
And, strangely enough, I kind of miss that hallmark of college students - the ubiquitous backpack. Until this afternoon, I hadn't worn my backpack in over a month and a half. Which, considering I usually carry that second home around like a turtle does his, is an anomaly in my life. (And it also meant that the chocolate my friend gave me for Christmas was still inside. Score!) For a college student, a backpack really is a home away from home, containing all the necessary supplies to sustain life in campus' treacherous wilderness - at least a day's worth of provisions, communication devices to contact the real world ( . . . or Facebook) if the depths of the library swallow you, more text than one person could possibly cram into their brain in a lifetime but that you have to learn before sunrise, tissues for those inevitable stress-induced colds or emotional breakdowns, and possibly a pillow in case all the couches are full and you have to sleep in one of the wooden cubicles, among other survival equipment. I guess I just haven't been facing those same dangers recently, or I wouldn't have been able to survive this long without my backpack friend.
But I think I like this whole summer vacation in January idea. And so does the weather. That's a very convenient truth.*
*Bonus points for that reference.
Despite loving being at home and not having homework, there are definitely some things I miss about school. Like my people. And - it's weird I'm saying this - Harold. (It's really quite depressing when you try to check out a book and the librarian tells you your library privileges expired three days ago on January 28th. Kind of like being kicked out of a second home or losing a good friend. Because Harold and I were tight. But I'll get over it.)
And, strangely enough, I kind of miss that hallmark of college students - the ubiquitous backpack. Until this afternoon, I hadn't worn my backpack in over a month and a half. Which, considering I usually carry that second home around like a turtle does his, is an anomaly in my life. (And it also meant that the chocolate my friend gave me for Christmas was still inside. Score!) For a college student, a backpack really is a home away from home, containing all the necessary supplies to sustain life in campus' treacherous wilderness - at least a day's worth of provisions, communication devices to contact the real world ( . . . or Facebook) if the depths of the library swallow you, more text than one person could possibly cram into their brain in a lifetime but that you have to learn before sunrise, tissues for those inevitable stress-induced colds or emotional breakdowns, and possibly a pillow in case all the couches are full and you have to sleep in one of the wooden cubicles, among other survival equipment. I guess I just haven't been facing those same dangers recently, or I wouldn't have been able to survive this long without my backpack friend.
But I think I like this whole summer vacation in January idea. And so does the weather. That's a very convenient truth.*
*Bonus points for that reference.
Comments
Post a Comment