There’s something oddly comforting about studying. A hot mug of coffee, Ben Howard wafting from the laptop sitting on my baby blue comforter, the light of my desk lamp focused on my French book. It’s like I’ve tricked myself into thinking it’s a cozy fall day. (But the fan circulating in my un-airconditioned apartment reminds me that it’s a hot summer’s day...
edited journal entry from last fall
I inched carefully along the aging brick sidewalks on M Street, narrowly avoiding smacking passers-by with the large lens of my Canon Rebel. I scrunched my nose up tight and stared intently at the red bricks beneath my worn black combat boots. Trying to mask my urge to fight back tears by giving the occasional yawn. I could feel the panic setting in. My dorm was a mere 15 minute walk away. I...
I can imagine no more comfortable frame of mind for the conduct of life than a...– W. Somerset Maugham