I’m inside, sitting at a desk, staring out a window and wondering why the sky has so many black splotches in it…when I realise it’s a window that hasn’t seen a washing since the day it was installed…

Image from here.

…I’m outside, slipping down icy walkways with no railings, wondering whose stupid idea it was to build a university on a hill…

Image from here.

…I’m back inside, staring at the professor with shifty eyes; I  wonder what he’s so afraid of—he’s the one who’s already got a degree…

…I’m in the library, shuffling though the aisles of matching old-school books, wondering how long until they all go digital and libraries will be passé…

Image from here.

…I’m in class, sitting down, wondering how I always get stuck next to the kid who won’t stop raising his hand.  I hate him…

…I tell myself I shouldn’t, that it’s not nice, but I don’t stop hating him.  Don’t even know his name, and I can’t stand the kid…

…I’m wandering the halls, basically lost without my map, rubbing shoulders [not in the “I got a promotion” sense, but the “I’m going to die from infestation of germs” kind of way] with hundreds of people who I will probably never know…

…I’m learning about Romantic poetry but all I can think about is the Romantic era of art history, and I find myself wishing I’d never changed majors. The students discuss Isis, and the name sounds familiar, but I have to be reminded by the professor that she is the Egyptian goddess of childbirth.  In another life, I think I wrote an essay about her.  I’m so disappointed that I forgot…

…Then I pick up a copy of this week’s student newspaper, scan the pages for my name, and I feel hope…

…a glimmer of light at the end of this tedious tunnel…

It’s not a huge start, but it’s my start.  This is the sort of thing that makes classes worthwhile.

“Be cool.  Stay in school.”

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