We Wanted More

Classes are in full swing and I’m almost in sync again. The schedule is done, books are ordered, and life is once again operating at full capacity. Aside from a few hitches, such as forgetting what day it is and the related mini-freakouts, all is well. Eek.

Friday was a day of biking—and later, running, after a bike tire blowout—across campus multiple times trying to utilize the few precious Friday hours when I’m not booked and professors might be in their offices.

Friday, I had an afternoon appointment with the Honors program director to go over options for having all the requirements filled by graduation time. It was doable and he almost convinced me to sign up for a slew of last-semester classes to add a word to my diploma, but I decided against it after analyzing the tentative schedule in more detail. There were too many classes—all of them requiring research papers and other time-consuming aspects. And, pre-calculus was a requirement, which sealed the deal in my mind. I started that class once and just don’t want to ever go back and open those books again. I can compute return on investment, irr, cost of capital, pensions and leases all day long; but ask me to compute cosine, conjugate pairs, or complex factors and I’ll go into a slow burn. I fixed my bike tire and two for a friend at the same time, then hurried home to shower.

Friday night was the downtown Art Walk, so I met a friend for the walk and dinner afterwards. It was a pleasant evening, a good way to end a crazy week.

Saturday I worked down a long checklist of homework assignments which took the better part of the day. My parents stopped in and we went out for dinner, went to campus and a nearby park, then drove to Phoenix for Sunday. We drove through Sedona and Oak Creek Canyon on the way back, which was nice.

This post wasn’t supposed to be a play by play; the expectation was that words would come to put down my thoughts by the time I was done with the preliminaries, but no such thing occurred, and the post is now past the place where I usually stop. I’ll try again next week, it’s all I can do.
And on the corner’s a man with his hand out
All I have to give him is my ever-changing smile
But in the back of my head I want to sit with him and talk with him
But that will keep me there for a while
He is a wanderer
Well so am I
I just have my place to stay
But it makes me wonder
How if everything went under
I would still be okay