My mind is fried, two fingers are numb, and the work is stacking up higher than Everest on a sunny day. I feel like that child who was left in boarding school for the holidays while everyone else went on a cruise. In all of this I am reminded why I read. Even though I spend twelve hours of my day in case studies and academic reports, every spare five minutes I have a book in hand again, making me laugh, enthralling my mind, and giving me hope. I am tossed back to C.S. Lewis, “We read to know we are not alone.” I need the thoughts of great men to help me go beyond the small ones who are running me up and down the washboard of academia only to drench me again in work.
I am tired, but there is a purpose for this. In two days I will only have a month left of school. A month left to finish the work that never seems to end. I feel like it is the end of winter and every so often a warm living spring breeze catches me off guard with hope. All I can think of is spring and leaving winter behind. Books give me a whole moment to enjoy, a world to escape into, and remind me that there is more than the fifteen pages that will never type themselves.