(no subject)
Spring is here, and the air is growing discernibly warmer. The insects are back in force and birds are chirping even now outside my window.
It seems this is nature's reminder that there are just 4 weeks of class left before the end of the semester, and all the things I said I would accomplish before then have mere instants to come to fruition. Mainly putting more effort into assignments and into my general upkeep, both which have become regrettably lax as of late.
Plus I need to do better on finals than last semester. No more mediocrity!
As for the summer, I've determined that my job at the computer clinic stretches from June 18th to August 15th with possible escapes on the weekends, plus my class will be on marine biology with an eventual field trip to the rocky intertidal region of Nahant, MA.
It'll be slightly sad not to be at home for summer, but I've always been adaptable and had an inclination toward the nomadic lifestyle. The value goal-wise and the pay are not easily dismissed.
Again I feel nostalgic for eras that do not exist. I begin to suspect this is a problem only solvable by the writing of another novel, regardless of how terrible it, too, will turn out.
It seems this is nature's reminder that there are just 4 weeks of class left before the end of the semester, and all the things I said I would accomplish before then have mere instants to come to fruition. Mainly putting more effort into assignments and into my general upkeep, both which have become regrettably lax as of late.
Plus I need to do better on finals than last semester. No more mediocrity!
As for the summer, I've determined that my job at the computer clinic stretches from June 18th to August 15th with possible escapes on the weekends, plus my class will be on marine biology with an eventual field trip to the rocky intertidal region of Nahant, MA.
It'll be slightly sad not to be at home for summer, but I've always been adaptable and had an inclination toward the nomadic lifestyle. The value goal-wise and the pay are not easily dismissed.
Again I feel nostalgic for eras that do not exist. I begin to suspect this is a problem only solvable by the writing of another novel, regardless of how terrible it, too, will turn out.