The end of the quarter is here. I've handed in everything, I've had a few celebratory gins and some poutine, and I should be relaxing. But there's this small voice in the back of my head wondering if I am done, a voice that can't believe that I don't have any articles to read or lectures to listen to. It's strange to be free, and I'm sure as soon as I get used to it, I'll be on a train heading north with another bag of text books.
Today was lazily productive. I cleaned a bit and traveled to the knitting store with LBA. I acquired some yarn for last minute Christmas gifts and I'm only halfway done with my holiday cards. I should have started on all of this weeks ago, but I've been feeling so out of it lately - it being the normal flow of life. I feel so disconnected from the normal flow of the seasons and the holidays. Maybe it's a byproduc of growing up or maybe it's the last twinges of my lapsed Catholicism that causes this craving for a deeper connection with the passing of the seasons. Sometimes, when completely underdressed for the weather, I look up in surprise at the leafless trees and wonder how the hell I got here. I suppose the same could be said for my schoolwork. I'm still not exactly sure how I didn't crash and burn or hand in things late. I'm still surprised by my focus and my sanity. Mind, not that I want to continue on without them.
I should probably head to bed and nurse this cold instead of doing a few more repeats on a scarf or reading more of Dickens' Christmas stories. I promise to be more coherant and meaningful in the future.
3 months ago