I'm practically done with my freshman year of college. Next week we go until Wednesday, Reading Day is the following day, and finals start on Friday. I don't really know what to make of it just quite yet. It certainly didn't feel like nine months, but I guess it never will. For once it doesn't seem like I am required to feel some sort of emotion. In high school I felt like I needed to have some great fear of the unknown, and to some extent I did. But here I simply feel comfortable. I'll take a break for a few months, and then I'll come back to the mountains where I know I'm supposed to be. I'll come back to the Blue Ridge, and to my slacklining, Chacos-wearing, banjo-picking, rock-climbing, salvia-smoking Mountaineers.
Anyway, so I have a lot of free time on my hands now. That leaves a lot of time for hammocking. And getting myself into uncomfortable tight spots. Or sleeping. I just woke up from a five hour nap which, I'm pretty sure, it technically called "sleeping." But it's probably one of the greatest naps I've had in a long time. Not because it's sticky and thundering outside, and there are few things that I love more than a good thunderstorm, but because my dream involved Jeff Tweedy. And that, dear friends, might be enough to get me through these last few weeks of school.
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