My Inevitability

I've stood on my balcony indulging in what has become by far my favorite vice. I've opened the doors to my bedroom in my apartment to find my crumpled pajamas still draped over my bedraggled bed (ha! alliteration). I've played a small tune on my keyboard (does favoring the black ones over the white ones make me racist?). I've walked by my bank and peered in to check on my favorite banker. I've sat in my office and degraded my eyesight. And I've strolled through my campus thinking the library would be open, it wasn't. And what exactly indicates these things to be 'mine' other than the word 'my'? Nothing. I'm afraid I've been spoiled over the break and have only been reminded what a home is supposed to feel like. And it is not the cold in my apartment, the isolation of my cubicle, or the sometimes overbearing prestige of my campus. It is in the laughter I've shared and the music I've experienced with the most amazing people I could hope to know. It is in the ideas we've exchanged on life, love, art, and how we could better improve our wingman skills. It is in the drinks we've consumed in celebration and otherwise(mostly otherwise). And finally home can be anywhere I park my car overnight because my conscience, and consequently the law, says it just wouldn't be right if I drove home. A wise woman once said "Life is the inevitability of hard times, which we survive only because of the moments of joy in between". I've had about a month of absolute joy. Now comes the inevitable. I want to take this chance to thank everyone who kept me company during my intervalled breaks from classwork. All those phone conversations, gchat communiques, and AIM messages truly helped in keeping me from becoming a proverbial ball of stress.

I just got out of my first class. I've been feeling out of sorts since I got back, but shrugged it off as being sad about leaving again. It was infinitely harder to leave this time, almost as if someone told me I couldn't drink water anymore. It really all came together when the professor started lecturing and something in my head got switched on and it was ok, for the time being, to make these sacrifices.

Well It's raining and my feet are wet. There's a hole at the bottom of my sweatshop free "Chucks" that's allowing puddles to seep in. I have another pair at home, but I'm so attached to these guys. Perhaps I'll just wear them on dry days. Well, I have to pee and I'm starving. So I'm cutting this short. Good day.