I’ll give you one guess as to where I am.
If you guessed the library, you get an A+.
It’s really the most frequented spot on campus come finals week. There are loads of people milling in and out of the stacks, toting water bottles and backpacks filled to the brim, sporting sad, tired looks on their red faces as they head to their favorite study destination. Not even Starbucks could wake these people up. Or an earthquake.
Everyone is in gym shorts and tee shirts (it’s all the rage on Sundays and finals week), and the continual rhythm of footsteps (flip flops primarily) reverberates from one side of the room to the other. In other words, unless I get some caffeine, I may pass out from boredom and lack of sleep.
Today I chose the third floor, which has been designated as the “quiet zone”. It’s a little too quiet if you ask my opinion. Besides the footsteps and some girl with sinus issues, it’s as quiet as the Sahara Desert in here (and nearly as hot too). I’m suddenly glad that I remembered my iPod. When I’m left alone with my own thoughts, Lord knows what might happen.
I could actually learn something.
Imagine that.
I’m supposed to be writing my Southern Literature final on moral ambiguity and the process of maturing. Flannery O’Connor, James Agee, William Faulkner, Tennessee Williams, and Walker Percy keep me company as I type away on my laptop. Of course, it would be nice if they would strike up conversation and help me with my research. They aren’t exceptionally chatty.
It isn’t particularly exciting, but my roommate and I bagged a table with a magnificent view. We can see the other side of the tracks, Keezell, the Honors Building, and a vast, green landscape of trees, grass, and shrubbery. The wind powers through the leaves outside until it comes to tap on the window while the walls creak and pop to its magnificent force.
I’m terribly distracted.
xoxo e
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