It's been two weeks. Two weeks is seven days, twice. Two weeks is closing your eyes only to find, upon opening, that three days have gone by with you unable to recall what happened in them. Two weeks is a great time.
I am a creature of routine. I like to have things laid out, looking pretty and smelling of fresh fruit. My bed time is flexible in and around 15 minutes; the aroma of peaches. My class time is concrete and consistent; pineapple that stings the nostrils. And my hangout time is mushed in between the other two, similar to small grapes, or, a mushed banana. Yes, a mushed banana.
I was stressed a few times this past week, and that scares me a little. Yes, it is true; third year is different that second. I would go so far to say that it is harder. I would also like to take one more blind step onto the stepping stone ahead (obviously surrounded by dark sludgy water where undoubtedly a few homely looking reptiles live) and say that it will be better. Better in the way that although the work load has increased, the focus is sharper. Living off campus is a less distracted life, one filled with casual drop in at opportune times, as well as quiet houses on nights that wait in anticipation for the forthcoming busy day. It is... how do you say... nice.
I bought a plant for my room. It's a large plant. It is a Majesty Palm from WalMart. It sits behind the couch that I got for free. Sorry, it goes behind the couch, Majesty Palms can't sit.
Amongst the hype of classes and the Fall Ball, I was able to do two things that I always wanted to do last year. First of all was write an article for the school newspaper. That was grand. Second was perform at coffee house.
I hope that you're all doing well. Drop me a line if you feel motivated to do so.
Peace and love.
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