I am ridiculously exhausted.
In a single day I stomped up and down my apartment staircase nearly a hundred times. This may be an exaggeration, but my legs would argue otherwise. I also revised three essays and made a giant buckwheat spelt tofu veggie filled hippie pilaf of wonder. My fellow English students enjoyed it, so victory for me. I am finally cracking open my Algebra book. Time to study. Or maybe sleep. I’ve been densely prepping for my Algebra final all weekend, so I’m trying to decide what would be the smarter move — trust my brain and give myself a good night’s rest before the exam that will determine my grade and potential 4.0 GPA as well as the six hour drive to the Bay that shall follow? Or cram for a few hours and still take my usual drugs (because if I don’t I won’t sleep AT ALL) and then sleep for a few hours and then drink ten cups of coffee (as opposed to my usual six) when I wake as a zombie?
I DUNNO I DUNNO I DUNNO.
All I know is that my car is now packed. My room is bare. My lower back will always have dimples no matter my weight. My portfolio has been turned into my English professor. I have handed the key to this bleak apartment to the future resident of this bedroom. I’ve said goodbye to everyone there is to say goodbye to. All that is left is a final in the morning and then I shall be on my way. Humboldt, it’s been swell, but I’m so giddy to be moving on.