Reason to Wear Shoes that Don't Fall Off Your Feet:

So that when you finish the last final of the Semester from Hell, you can run wild and screaming out of the building, saying, "I AM FREEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

The last days of hell.

I've still got two days - just four measly hours - left of the Semester from Hell but my brain has already left for parts unknown. It gave up weeks ago, really, and I've been left alone struggling to find good reasons to prepare for these last two exams. The only one I can come up with is Because I Should, which is a variation of It's the Right Thing to Do. Somehow my brain is not convinced.

At any rate, there is the issue of the art history exam. I have managed to mostly memorize artists, titles, and dates for all 90 works we are responsible for knowing (of which we will be tested on 12). Unfortunately that only counts for about 1/3 of the exam points, and I have not begun to think about what I could write about these works of art. Um, they're weird? We'll see how that flies tomorrow.

Friday is my American history final, and this is the one I truly despise, the one that gives me pimples and hives in places I will not discuss on my website. I'm supposed to write an essay to bring into class about different peoples who arrived to America looking for a better life and the other peoples they stepped on to get it. I'm writing about southern plantation owners who took advantage of slavery to get ahead and then lost it all after the Civil War. Seems a pretty classic case. Trouble is, getting that concept out of my brain and onto a sheet of paper which I can then turn in to my professor is like trying to talk me into living in a closet with a tyrannosaurus rex. Would YOU say yes to such a thing? I rest my case.

But of course it doesn't stop at an essay, because I also have to know dates and facts that I haven't even thought about thinking about in weeks. I think the Revolutionary War was back in the 1700s sometime, right? And it was over a bunch of tea?

All's I know is, Friday night when all this is done I am going to be utterly delirious with joy. I might even dance a jig. That may be the only thing that makes it all worth it.

My heart will thank me for this.

So I went and ran 3.1 miles tonight and maybe I neglected to mention when I was soliciting funds that I haven't exercised at all in well over a month. I suppose there was that one time I wheezed my way up and down the coast of Anna Maria Island, crying from the agony of using muscles and lungs I hadn't thought of in far too long. I choose not to count that as exercise as much as torture.

But tonight I ran 3.1 miles in succession, like without stopping, mostly out of sheer stubbornness. My body revolted more than once, but I put it in its place like any good drill sergeant would do. I ignored the side stitches, the hunger, the numb feet, the stomach cramps, the headache, and the overall wheeziness and pressed through every last step like my life depended on it. There is probably no good reason for this, except that I am a fool. I can't even say it felt right at the time, because it didn't.

I ran 5k, or 3.1 miles in approximately 34 minutes tonight. Not bad for an out of shape old lady like me.

Things that are Better than Writing a Final Exam about Early American History:

1. Poking at my eyeballs with an ice pick.
2. Throwing spitballs at the ceiling.
3. Flinging rubber bands across the room at Billy's head.
4. Tearing my hair out, one single hair at a time.
5. Eating burnt cheesecake.
6. Listening to the entire Secret Garden soundtrack on repeat for two hours.
7. Picking at my cuticles until they bleed.
8. Devising a plan for the takeover of humanity everywhere.
9. Writing stupid blog posts so as to spread my misery among millions.

Going to the Eye Doctor.

Two Asian women sifting through garbage on a sidewalk in Battery Park City, pulling out bottles and cans and chatting amiably with each other. Their bags nearly overflowing with plastic and tin.

The little black dog with the scrunched up face looking intently and eagerly at some invisible object, its owner indifferently gazing out into space.

A couple riding by on their tandem bicycle as a matter of routine, Hudson River behind them as a hazy complement to their ride.

Nanny making faces and baby noises to her charge. My smile stretches wider than I thought possible on a walk through the park. I am warmed further when Nanny smiles back, and then, so does Baby.

Forget-me-nots blooming in the wild. In the heat of the moment, I decide I have to have a stem for my office, a reminder of the outdoors and perfection.

The flowers die on my desk within ten minutes, sadly drooping in their watery paper cup grave. I close my eyes and whisper my apologies.

Thank you.

I'd like to thank everyone who commented on my post about posting. It's nice to hear different perspectives on what it means to blog and all the different things we get out of it. I think it's probably something completely different for everyone, despite the many similarities that also exist. Kind of like people in general.

It gives me some food for thought, anyway, so I really do appreciate the feedback!

Because apparently I don't have enough projects.

I have no idea how apt I am to stick with this for a full year, particularly since I only made it about two and a half months in the last time I tried it, but I've decided to give the 365 Days project another shot. Now that I've got a new toy to play with, I've got a little added incentive.

Oh, and by the way, I had about 12 inches of hair chopped off tonight. As I did last time, the ponytail is going to Locks of Love.