in the woods
I’m in Toronto with Phil, at his grandparents' cottage on a lake. It’s just us and his mom and her boyfriend Bill, as apparently his extended family (an infinity of loud cousins and uberconservative aunts and uncles, i’ve heard) left a couple hours before we arrived. I woke up this morning and planted myself by a sliding glass door in the basement, which opens onto the lake (it’s misty, rainy, and wonderful). Phil, victim of Harvard’s post-vacation final exams tradition, is upstairs studying so I have hours of time to myself yet can still be near him. So I’m typing beside afore-mentioned glass door with the occasional distraction of watching raindrops hit the stones a couple inches away. I really have no school-type obligations, not even graduate school applications!, so I plan to read a lot (I’m reading “The Awakening” by Kate Chopin and “The Rediscovery of Mind” by John Searle, a critique of major viewpoints in the philosophy of mind which I find interesting though I’ve never read anything on philosophy of mind before, email me if you want to discuss!). Also have only a 28.8 dialup connection, so I won’t be trapped into mindless internet surfing, yay for more worthwhile focused thinking time. I hope I can avoid slipping into restlessness while I’m here, so far I’m optimistic.