Robin red breast

Some people look for crocuses poking through the brown grass, or curse their seasonal allergies; as for me, the sign that spring is finally near is the first runner's chafe of the season. Unlike my more hearty friends who run through the winter, I am just now emerging from my hibernation to answer the call to rise to my feet. Like my squirrel sistren, I have discovered that my carefully placed stashes of survival rations have become depleted during my winter absence; yes, those sticks of body glide that have been hanging out on my dresser (the site of which seemed to be a perpetual chastisement for my sloth) have turned out to be empty.

Heedless of my better judgment which, though slowed by my still-groggy state of mind, still told me that I should not attempt to run without greasing up, I hit the rubber path (no, I still have not braved the elements) sans anti-chafe protection. And now - I hurt. But it's ok, because it's all downhill from here (in some ways at least). I've had my first 'hey, wake up and resupply, dummy!' moment to tell me that I need to get serious again and be prepared. Red welts will shrink and fade as, hopefully, will my times and wasteline.

So, procrastination and lethergy be gone - it's time to lumber onto the lake path to get ready for a summer of events.

Slow

Working the reference desk today, which means a leisurely afternoon of mindless paperwork, listening to This American Life, and drinking iced tea. I like working up here because it's one of the few places in the museum where one can have access to both fresh air and natural light. I've got the window open, and the warmish air brings with it a smell that is a mixture of rain and stale McDonalds - both refreshing and completely nauseating at the same time, if you can imagine that. Still, it's better than the stale museum air. I'm finally settling into the idea that I no longer have impending deadlines threatening my sanity; slowly the cold shock of fear that there is something that I should be doing, frantically at the last minute, has started to wear off. It's break, and it will be for another month. Believe me, I am looking forward to the day when break never ends, and I am free to feed myself with all the food groups of entertainment, from intellectual reading, to Rolling Stone articles, to Hell's Kitchen, without feeling any remorse for not spending the time on coursework. Only another year (maybe less) and I'm done.

Please shoot me if I ever consider going back to school after this! I'm sure there will be times when I miss academia, but I'll manage - believe me...