There Is Comfort In the Sound

Today the sky down south looks like the underside of a comforter when you've just woken up and it's too early to get up so you just lay there and figure out things you know all the time (almost unbearably so) once you're awake like what day it is and where you are and what it is you're supposed to accomplish today. There's thunder rumbling in the distance and I'm waiting for rain. 

I just got back from bringing Keavin to the bus stop and on the drive back home, I felt something shift inside me, like thunder--goodbye, love I said and found myself headed back home so that I could (as on every Sunday) sit on the fence between the languid weekend and the busy weekdays ahead; I'm standing on the edge of the summer and anticipating the new term--new pencils and notebooks and things to fill my head with. The weather seems to reflect all of this; we're transitioning between rain and shine as well. 

 One of the things about trimestral life that always gets to me is how things are always changing so quickly and at the end of every term you find yourself forgetting both your schedule for the past term and every term since so that you feel like you need to get used to your schedule but at the same time can't remember what it is or was exactly, that you'd gotten "used to" in the first place. It's like you're transitioning into something, from nothing. I hate the first day of class more than anything. And so, yes. Tomorrow's going to be another day of trying to normalize.

Photo c/o Keavin Mutuc

That said, I had an exceptionally good weekend and week. Hopefully some of that good juju carries over, whatever "good juju" means.