Thirty seven more days, counting weekends.
I have spring fever in the worst way. The worst way. Only twenty five more days of classes, though. I can manage that, right? Oh God please let me be able to manage that. My impatience is overwhelming.
I've just returned from the UK and I feel obliged to write about it though I think I am still very much stuck in one of my moods of silent bewilder. The trip is still so fresh on my mind that the best words that I could come up with to describe it would never do the images branded in my mind justice. Perhaps when the images fade some I will be able to find the words. As the response of questions regarding the trip I keep finding myself replying with "Yeah, it was great, I had fun" or "Yeah, it was beautiful". I've never been wonderful at expressing myself through words.
I am glad to be back in the states, though. The UK was painfully cold and though the greyness was appropriate and welcomed while I was there, I have never been more thrilled to see the sunshine and feel the spring in the air. I've been very consumed with winter this year for several reasons mentioned in previous entries. I've been dreading the all too familiar heat of my Georgia summers but I actually don't think I am anymore. As much as I love winter I also have the need for progression in life. A need for change. When the winter was still very evident my summer break seemed a mere thought so far off in the distance it wasn't even worth considering an actual thing. Though I love the freshness of the cold air I felt as if I were waking up in the same repeating week every Monday. Now, though, I am finally seeing the progression of time in this school year. When I drove to Charlotte two Tuesdays ago I left a still somewhat wintry Rome and returned on Friday to see Spring in full bloom. Leaves exist again and the Bradford Pear Trees that line the road before turning onto Martha Berry Highway are covered in small white flowers. It's amazing really. In the UK I felt as if I had been thrown back in time to December or January because it seemed impossible that March could be so cold anywhere (I'm from the south keep in mind). Returning to Georgia was like being given the gift of fast forwarding through some of this semester even though I had the same number of school days to complete as before, it somehow seemed less. I'm sure none of this makes any sense. I loved the UK. It was grand and surreal and amazing but something about driving through the South Carolina country side in perfect, sunny, seventy five degrees weather with my windows rolled down and the smell of onions and asphalt all around left me feeling (in the words of Chbosky) infinite. Odd that the same girl who feels eternal feels the need to number her days. Thirty seven more days, counting weekends.
I've just returned from the UK and I feel obliged to write about it though I think I am still very much stuck in one of my moods of silent bewilder. The trip is still so fresh on my mind that the best words that I could come up with to describe it would never do the images branded in my mind justice. Perhaps when the images fade some I will be able to find the words. As the response of questions regarding the trip I keep finding myself replying with "Yeah, it was great, I had fun" or "Yeah, it was beautiful". I've never been wonderful at expressing myself through words.
I am glad to be back in the states, though. The UK was painfully cold and though the greyness was appropriate and welcomed while I was there, I have never been more thrilled to see the sunshine and feel the spring in the air. I've been very consumed with winter this year for several reasons mentioned in previous entries. I've been dreading the all too familiar heat of my Georgia summers but I actually don't think I am anymore. As much as I love winter I also have the need for progression in life. A need for change. When the winter was still very evident my summer break seemed a mere thought so far off in the distance it wasn't even worth considering an actual thing. Though I love the freshness of the cold air I felt as if I were waking up in the same repeating week every Monday. Now, though, I am finally seeing the progression of time in this school year. When I drove to Charlotte two Tuesdays ago I left a still somewhat wintry Rome and returned on Friday to see Spring in full bloom. Leaves exist again and the Bradford Pear Trees that line the road before turning onto Martha Berry Highway are covered in small white flowers. It's amazing really. In the UK I felt as if I had been thrown back in time to December or January because it seemed impossible that March could be so cold anywhere (I'm from the south keep in mind). Returning to Georgia was like being given the gift of fast forwarding through some of this semester even though I had the same number of school days to complete as before, it somehow seemed less. I'm sure none of this makes any sense. I loved the UK. It was grand and surreal and amazing but something about driving through the South Carolina country side in perfect, sunny, seventy five degrees weather with my windows rolled down and the smell of onions and asphalt all around left me feeling (in the words of Chbosky) infinite. Odd that the same girl who feels eternal feels the need to number her days. Thirty seven more days, counting weekends.