Disjointed

I have been laid up with the strangest illness. It came on strong Friday night, that tickle at the back of the throat that you realize you really can't ignore, no matter how much you'd like to, because pretty soon you'll be sneezing, body aches, that soreness behind the eyes if you stupidly try to do your hundreds of pages of reading despite being bedridden ...

Oh, but I'm being melodramatic. Still, on a weekend I was worried I'd have to cram in tons of homework because I'll be out of town next weekend, it was really nice to relax, although in a very exhausting sort of way.


Some of Abby's prints, up on my wardrobe. Little bits of soothingness to greet me each day. I've got my eye on a couple more in her shop. Hm ...


When people would ask me what I did for spring break, I told them I stayed in Boston to take care of all the little details that escape me when I'm flying madly through papers and finals and group projects. Little things like making my bed properly.

Statements like that elicit a barely suppressed wince from my mom [I know they do mom!], and either a very awkward silence or a huge burst of laughter. Personally, I favor the huge burst of laughter, but I understand where the awkward silence comes from.


I limited myself to a reasonable number of bags when I came here, and I'm proud to say these all get used with great regularity. Except that I hate lugging things over one shoulder and would much rather use my backpack any day. I don't quite know what I'll do when I get a properly dignified job that means no more schlepping backpacks to work. And that goldfish bag there? Still my favorite ever. Still get comments on it all the time. That and the dots one, my China Bag.