31 Hours & Counting

Since I last slept.
I curled up under my blankets around 5:30 this morning only to hear birds singing. Birds that sounded so happy, so awake, so everything I wanted to be!
Jeans on, elf shoes zipped, camera in hand; I raced outside (all right, strolled).

And I was awake! I was happy! I was at peace!
The campus was just waking up; one or two people drifted about unlocking doors and cleaning floors.
I was alone with no ipod to distract me from the cheerful bird songs, the calm of the carefully manicured golf course, the hopefully pink clouds climbing out of the horizon.

I still haven't slept. My feet have been soaked (elf shoes are not waterproof) and tortured (heeled boots for the 10 block walk to and from work). I have presentations and papers and finals for the next week and two days. I have no clean underwear and no matching socks.

But when I was alone in the cool morning on a moist golf course none of that was important; I was apart from those worries, above them. Some part of me is holding, clinging, desperately to that feeling. I am repeating it to myself; it is my mantra to get me through these final weeks:

I am apart. I am above. I am at peace.