I lie in bed, my face leaking, my cough verging on the Dickensian, and a fever providing a grimly welcome protective glow in this brutal, NEVER ENDING New England winter, I decide that this is a great time to acknowledge passing the six-month mark.
So here it is: I’ve been doing the being-in-America, Yale-Divinity-School thing for over 6 months now, and, with each passing day, I am finding it increasingly difficult to believe that it still isn’t Spring Break.
On the other hand, there have been lovely things this semester. I haven’t spent all of it (or even most of it) feeling like I have all the structural integrity of a wet paper bag.Today I helped a group of children plant seeds/rub water and soil into their t-shirts/hair/faces, some for the first time.
There was also that rare moment when I looked at the snow falling under lamplight and didn’t feel hollow hatred about the fact that it’s so cold I recently burnt my face – in fact, I almost felt awe.
Last week I talked about Dante with a group of incarcerated men and thought that maybe all this studying might be worth something after all. I’ve eaten a lot of burritos. I’ve received/given schnuggles. I’ve heard my mouth keep talking even when my brain was no longer paying attention. I’ve played Beer Pong against ex-frat boys and almost won. I’ve tweeted thousands of characters, catalogued/shelved/sorted hundreds of books, emptied tens of compost bins. I’ve watched A LOT of The (U.S.) Office. I’ve watched my first ever Super Bowl. I’ve been to ice hockey games.
I have tried being vegetarian.
My prayers remain arbitrary, nonsensical, distracted. I’ve tried giving up saying “I’m busy” for Lent, and have realised that I’ve simply replaced it with whining about the weather instead/brag-plaining about how many pairs of socks I’m wearing (have you seen how cold it is? It’s SO cold. I think my pores have frozen shut). I have been anxious, tired, excitable, angry, happy. I have regretted hours wasted, and have wished I spent more time doing nothing. I have written bad blog post drafts, and deleted most of them. In fact, as I write this, I’m wondering whether I should delete this one, too. But then I haven’t posted in a while, and I’m sick/feverish enough to believe that this is passable. I’ll probably regret it tomorrow.
Six months in, friends. *winces* *gulps tea*