I’ve decided. I absolutely love summer. What other season is entirely dedicated to pursuing your desires? It’s just a loooong breath of freedom after finals.
Lemme just recount to you what I’ve been going through the past few days so you can see what I mean. Exam week was quite dreadful; I’m not gonna lie. I didn’t even have that many orthodox finals, but the papers and projects due on top of my two in-class exams were a little hard to juggle. Time management has never been my forte, so when I had an unlimited-time, open-notes, open-book Econometrics final and Finance project due on the same day, I decided that preparation beforehand wasn’t quite necessary. Needless to say, there was a reason said ‘Metrics final was unlimited-time. My dearest lover, Sleep, with whom I have had myriad scandalous PDA sessions (in class, on elevators, at the library), left me for a while. We both decided it was a good time to take a break.
That mess was all over Saturday, though, so I packed up my things into my little Sentra (Eleanor, I call her, for she has a rather unfortunate looking face) and readied myself for a grueling nine hour drive. I was so ready, in fact, that I packed (and locked) my car keys into dear old Eleanor and required the services of a good locksmith in the early hours of the morn. I also find out that I’m out of cash to pay him, so I end up borrowing some $$$ from a good sorority sister. Mind you, the sprint to an ATM and discovery I didn’t know my own PIN number beforehand occurred in the rain. How very FML-appropriate, no? No worries, it gets even better…
I chug along for the entirety of Sunday, and about an hour away from home decide to gently roll into a parked truck at a red light while checking to see at which intersection I needed to turn. The pleasantries of respective car evaluation, uncomfortable acknowledgment of the situation, and insurance information are exchanged.
“Moving?” he inquires.
“Oh, I’m getting home from college.”
He looks bewildered, so I take a look at my dangerously stuffed car and agree, “Moving, yeah I’m moving.”
He runs a hand over his pristine bumper while I kick at my crumpled license plate, “Well, I’ll call you if anything’s damaged.”
Nacogdoches, TX will never be a happy place again.
I get to Houston. Finally. Pass Out. Reboot. Start: Summertime
Janis’ Summertime (Right click, Open in New Tab this, I wanna set the right mood for the rest of my entry.)
Monday I begin unpacking my college things. Molting my extraneous clothing, accessories, knick-knacks. Tucking flyaway feathers away in closets as I step out to greet the joyous season of sun, fun, and bikinis. I do outrageously summery things like washing the car, sunbathing, swimming, reading books for enjoyment and watching my little brother’s baseball practice. How much more blueberry-pickin’, beach frequentin’ A-mur-ican summer can I get? Oh yeah, I also buy a bunch of records and have some Beatles blastin’ as I chillax on the porch swing. You can almost smell the BBQ goodness drifting through the mosquito netting, right?
Oh, yeah, and what summer would be complete without a little traveling? I’m leaving for the Motherland on May 28th. Will be there until almost August. If you’re gonna be there, comment/email me so we can stand a better chance of meeting than not. China’s a big country. Shanghai’s a big city.
As of right now, I’m content. Summer is decidedly the best season. I used to be a fall fan, then winter lover, and spring was so fresh! in my mind. Yet, all those seasons have a restricting, flight-preventing, structure to them. This summer, I can work if I want. I can make that T-shirt quilt I’ve been planning. I can choose to sit on my lazy butt and soak up the rays. All I know is this little bird will be trilling her heart out for a while.
This is freedom of life. You try to use your blessed life.