Thankful. Yet that isn't descriptive enough...
Speech contest scripts. Teachers harping on me to finish them, correct them, record them. Exams. Have I actually finished with those? It must be some kind of illusion; they're written but not graded yet. The next trimester is still looming ahead, mostly unplanned.
Yet in the midst of this, I pull my MP3 player out, untangle the headphones, and lay it down on top of a pile of textbooks waiting to be reviewed. Flick through some albums and find it: Northern Skies.
With the opening strums, the office is gone. I hear their voices, the guitars, and the world just... fades. How could I be stressed? I think of a weekend on Red Pine deck, when Nate asked me what kind of song he should play. I said "like a rainbow," and he did... rain, and light. I think about Eric and Adam's antics. The Coffee shop. Weekends at the beach, the Bluegrass festival, Lake Michigan, long car trips, pancakes, my grandmother's old house, art fairs, family vacations, forests, stars...
And everything that I miss so much it hurts, is brought right to me, to my desk, in a place where the people have no concept of what my "home" is. Michigan, camp, family.
I love having this measure of peace. At least it's something.
Yet in the midst of this, I pull my MP3 player out, untangle the headphones, and lay it down on top of a pile of textbooks waiting to be reviewed. Flick through some albums and find it: Northern Skies.
With the opening strums, the office is gone. I hear their voices, the guitars, and the world just... fades. How could I be stressed? I think of a weekend on Red Pine deck, when Nate asked me what kind of song he should play. I said "like a rainbow," and he did... rain, and light. I think about Eric and Adam's antics. The Coffee shop. Weekends at the beach, the Bluegrass festival, Lake Michigan, long car trips, pancakes, my grandmother's old house, art fairs, family vacations, forests, stars...
And everything that I miss so much it hurts, is brought right to me, to my desk, in a place where the people have no concept of what my "home" is. Michigan, camp, family.
I love having this measure of peace. At least it's something.