Within a four day window, I started a new job, start my final undergraduate semester, will “finish” a chapter of my thesis, and will travel to North Carolina to attend a seminar having nothing to do with any of three previous activities.
I said I’d go to the conference because I was invited in October. I remember the distinct thought, “It’s the first weekend of the semester. What could I possibly be missing out on?” I now have no less than three places I need to be this Saturday afternoon.
Knowing that this week would be uncharacteristically busy, I remember thinking that the drive back to campus in the evenings would be long. Instead, I find myself wanting the road to be longer and wishing I could script the thoughts that come when I drive. They’re always the most eloquent.
When I drive home, ideas come out in organized phrases that get strung together and rearranged like they would on paper, and in them is the reason otherwise absent in the momentous chaos and excitement that characterize this last week. Slipping into mechanized motion (not zoning out, I promise), it’s so much easier to shut off the processor and just be. And rest. And pray.
Funny thing is, I don’t even know what that road is called or which way it goes. It’s just the way home. This is a slightly embarrassing fact, and I probably ought to look it up in case I need to give somebody directions sometime. But it all sortof speaks to the point.
To that end, I will cope with the new phone that wouldn’t activate, the possibility of not being able to port my number, and the fact that the library closed at 5pm with all my books in it. In doing so, I’ll funnel this week’s emotion and stress away from tense joints and toward my fingertips, step away from WordPress and back to Word, and finish draft one of chapter two, tonight.