The semester is over and all through the house, not a word is spoken, not even a shout. No pages are turned, no pencils are moved; no papers frantically ferried to professors behooved. Instead there is silence, a deep blanketing veil, a solemn rest now overcoming those students whispering, “Farewell.”
From their shoulders are lifted great burdensome weights, and tall and mighty now they stand and await. In days’ time, in weeks’ time, they’ll find peace at last; and once more, and once again then, classes will begin at first light. But now, now they rest, all wrapped up in bed, tired and lonesome, no thoughts in their heads. In silence they slumber, in silence they wake, and through silence, to silence, their futures they make.
November wore me down. It always does. NaNoWriMo is a great release, a time of pure creative force that purges me of an entire year’s worth of backed-up words. But November is also when coursework begins to grow heavier, and with my eyes on a thirty-day wordcount, I easily lose track of what’s soon due in December.
And then comes December. I’ve convinced myself without NaNoWriMo to possess me, I’ll have more time and be free–but then, lo, I see just what I’ve lost track of. And I start catching up on reading. And I procrastinate on those papers that are due as other things come up. And then, oh, look, those papers are due and I haven’t started them yet. And people go to the hospital, unexpected things crop up, and then–then for the first time in my nearly three years in college, I fear failing my classes. Not just one class–but all of them. Each with its own final assignment due, all at the same time… and none of them started.
Now it’s all over. In fact I submitted my very last assignment earlier this evening and now, now my semester is completely complete. I feel a great relief inside me, a thorough openness in my chest that hasn’t been there since the beginning of September. It’s quite amazing, this freedom, this felicity. But I know it’s only temporary.
Very soon–within the next few hours if my forecast’s not mistaken–I’ll be overcome with the laxness of rebound, the dry glaze upon life known only as withdrawal. I’ve become so accustomed to adrenalin I can’t function without it. I’ll be lazy and depressed and dizzy and confused, and just as I begin to recover… it’ll all start again.
I have a small number of large goals for this break, or perhaps a large number of small goals is the better way to state it. I want to finish reading my American government and world religions textbooks–simply for personal pleasure now, since I’ve grown to enjoy politics and because I’ve always loved religion (and we only covered about half the book, and because it’ll be a great prep for mythology in the spring). Then I have some posters to make for school–really large and really colorful posters that’ll hopefully help encourage people to be more active on campus, or at least more aware of the Student Government Association. I also need to complete my application to NC State (I shall apply before the year ends!). There’s a bag design I want to create to actively show off my opposition to NC Amendment 1. And past all of that… I’d like to play games and read novels and maybe edit a couple stories and prepare queries. I wrote some good things this semester. Let’s take it as far as I can take it.
It’s a lot to do, but I’ll be happy doing it if I can somehow figure out how to bypass this recovery stage. It always lasts too long, and that’s never fun.
However, I want to make this December–or at least what’s left of it–the best December this blog has ever seen. I’ve got special plans for Chanukah–an eight-part series that I’m still conceiving!–and I’ve got tons more stories and poetry I’d like to share, plus some interesting memories and a look back at this year’s goals and how horribly I’ve failed to achieve any of them. Live and learn, as they’d say. I might not get to all of it, but it’s a plan. I hate seeing so few new posts here. This place is a part of me, and I hate to reject it and neglect it just as I would hate to reject and neglect any other part of me.
Most of all, if not the first thing to come to my business-centered brain, this break will be a time to enjoy friends. Over the next couple days I’ll be meeting up with lots of friends–and it’ll be a beautiful thing. Maybe this’ll be my key to skip recovery. And if it isn’t, at least I’ve had the chance to spend time with those that really do matter this time of year–my friends and family, the people that make all of this worth it.