It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah

Something about the newspapers strewn across my carpet and bed, something in the way I can hear my florescent light bulbs humming, something that causes my pillow to smell like nostalgia tells me that all of this is about to change. It certainly is a year for changes.

As I gracelessly stumbled and weaved around the ice-skating rink tonight, it's all I could think about. I mean, aside from using almost all of my energy to keep from falling. On a rink full of people, many of whom I knew well, I was alone. Happily alone. I found myself some place I seldom do - calmly in my mind. Starting a few months ago and ending in August, everything around me is changing. Marriages, moving, graduations, ... everything. And it's terrifying, you know? To know that soon, very soon, a new stage of life starts. To be quite honest, I've been pretty comfortable tucked away in my little cocoon of normalcy, stability, sanity. (Sanity is a strong word for what my normal life is... but let's stick with it anyway.)

So, here I am, I still haven't taken my boots off, and I've been home for hours. And it's cold. And I'm overcome with this terrified, yet excited, sense of reality. And 2 a.m. is not a convenient time for reality or blankets or straws with umbrellas or the sound of a t.v. seeping through the ceiling. And for a moment I place my hands under my laptop to warm them up.

What am I saying? I wish I had a good answer for that. How about this - I'm going to make some promises. To you to me to whoever... I doesn't really matter.
1.) I'm going to start on my thesis over winter break... I swear.
2.) I'll stop selling myself short that second you do. (That's a lie. I'll do it before you.)
3.) Ninety percent of the newspapers in my room will end up in the recycling bin.
4.) I'll put aside more time to write.
5.) I'll invest in a coat that is not a couple of hoodies layered. (And gloves.)
6.) I'll turn the heat up. (That's a lie too... I kind of like to need my covers.
7.) I'm going to stop worrying. I've never been a worrier. Now seems like a pretty dumb time to start.