Today, I had to ride the bus home from class because as I was unlocking my bike, the key broke in two. I was lucky enough to get the half-key out from the lock, but now I was faced with a dilemma: walk home in my shoes (comfortably earthy and rubbery, but with high heels) or wait 35 minutes and catch the bus. Looking back, I’m sure it was much slower to wait for the bus, but I think my feet are grateful. As a bonus, I got to sit in the spring sun and plan my week.
What do I have to say about that? ¡FINALLY! It’s about d*mn time! A man waiting next to me said March had been called “Marchuary” by newscasters for it’s uncharacteristically cold weather, or, as he liked to call it “Mortuary”. I’d be inclined to agree.
As things are finally blooming, I feel like it’s my turn to bloom again. Though I do my darndest not to hibernate in the winter, piles of readings and 50 degree rain doesn’t exactly invite long walks, patient waits at the bus stop, or outdoor anything. I’m looking forward to seeing things with a new set of eyes, trying to find a new perspective and new life in myself and around me. (Now, doesn’t that sound like something straight out of O magazine?)
The first YEAR of my degree is almost complete; April 26th is the last day of classes. I’d like to spend more time congratulating myself and my two, brave, first-year compañeros for what may be the biggest academic accomplishment in our lives so far (rather than stressing about the fact that we’ve still got another left!). No, I’m no Cervantes, but I think I have to start realizing that measuring from my own starting line, I’ve run a pretty good race so far.