Thirty-six hours. Hello. Tomorrow (or today, rather, since it's eight minutes past midnight and that makes it Monday) is going to be a trail of the unknown. It will be another dimension, the tipping point between the end of summer and my debut into the whirlwind.
We had the amazing Demske family over today (Sunday, rather). The twelve of us had a bonfire, watched Rachel D.'s leap for mankind in the art of roasting Jet-Puff marshmallows, watched goofy YouTube videos and Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure. It was a bodacious end-of-summer bonanza. My friend Hannah left for college this afternoon, and this fall is going to be so crazy I feel as if I'm leaving, too, even though my home is moving nowhere.
Monday will be a day of cleaning and organizing and finding lost things, accompanied by the 1.19 gigabytes of music I've added to my iTunes library in the last week, thanks to mix CDs. (I could have just lounged around and done some heavy-duty praying, if I'd cleaned my room Saturday like I meant to. I suppose that's why this Monday is called Labor Day?)
Last Friday I went to KVCC and wandered around the halls with a map and my mother and found where my classes are supposed to be, and bought half of my books, after which I am astonishingly less nervous. I think the fact that my classes don't start until the afternoon, so I will have some mental and emotional preparation time and a chance for more sleep in the morning, will be something to fall on my knees in gratitude for come Tuesday.
Now, I post a poem as a second blog post, retreat into my 59 new Glowfriends songs and sleep, and brace myself for a week like a March hare.
Party on, dudes.
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