Home: it’s so close. England has been a beautiful, life-changing experience that I wouldn’t trade for the world, but sometimes I wake up in the morning, cold, my pillow uncomfortably damp from the generalized moisture I’ve found to be so common in this country, and just feeling… a little bit done.
Yeah, part of that whole waking up exhausted thing is probably from the sleep apnea I’ve somehow managed to develop this term, but the point still holds. It’s December, it’s officially the Christmas season, and I can feel my bed – not this sheetless dorm bed, but my real bed with Nicolas Cage pillow cases and plaid blankets at home – calling to me like a dog howling for its human. Soon I shall answer that call, and I shall sleep.
There’s still so much work to be done, though. After a semester of craving a purpose for my work-driven life, all the assignments have hit at once. I’m so glad to feel like I have a real reason to be awake aside from going on Tumblr, but right now, three papers, one take-home exam, and a couple of small essays are what’s standing between me and peace. One of my classes is being graded entirely on one 4,000-word paper, which is fine because who needs a good GPA for anything, really? Not me, for I surely intend on dragging down my significant other with my lowered GPA and corresponding unemployability until we’re both living in a cardboard box outside of an Albertson’s located somewhere in the Midwest.
Dramatic, yes, but I feel like I need to be spending more time on this paper than on performing basic human functions like sleeping or eating, or watching Kate McKinnon’s SNL sketches.
My break time is up, so I’ve got to get back to writing essays off of prompts that are somehow both specific and vague while mentally screaming, “SPRING 2017 COME THROUGH.”