Back to School

My alarm went off at 5am. The car had been packed the night before (thank the Gods) and I stared at my beeping phone with the poison of a thousand arrow frogs. Or something like that. Struggling into my clothes, I grabbed the few last minute things that needed to be put in the car. My ascent of the stairs was troubled with a few false starts and several meetings of my hips with the railings.

The smell of coffee assaulted my dulled brain. Like a zombie I stumbled into the kitchen and grabbed a mug off the rack. My angelic mother, my beautiful thoughtful mother had started the coffee early. I spent ten minutes completely zonked on the couch, noticing only that the sun had yet to show its face.

I'm of the opinion that really, if the sun isn't up, we shouldn't be up. It used to be that way you know. People woke up when the sun did, or just before, and worked until the light was gone. That makes sense to me. None of this, wake up at the ass-crack of dawn (or sleep until all the good parts of morning are gone) and stay awake until the ass-crack of dawn.

"But I digress." By 5:45, my mother, my bags, and a travel mug filled with the elixir of the gods were somehow contained inside a tiny Toyota Camry, setting forth on our quest to Amherst. The conversation was great, even if I occasionally forgot what I wanted to say. By 7:30 it was time for a pit stop.

Usually we stop just outside Leominster, at a very breezy, green toileted rest stop that is only mildly sketch. This time, we decided to go someplace different. Cleaner. With food. McDonalds, do not fail me.

We managed to find the only McDonalds located more than half a mile off the exit and shot two birds with one stone: the coffee had been running low. Back on the road, we snarfed down hash browns and Egg McMuffins. After a few failed tries to get back on the highway (That says South, and we're going West! Mom says, and with her innate ability to get us hopelessly lost no matter how simple the directions are, I ignore her.) At last, sanity and consciousness came to me. It is now 8:30am.

It comes time for us to turn onto 202. Amherst is only 45 minutes away.... but everything looks kinda... odd. We pass exit 15 and I turn to my mother: "We're taking the next one, exit 16."

We pass exit 13A and 13 B, both headed to... Rhode Island? I realize something is horribly wrong. We take exit 12 to turn around (again.) I realize the signs that should be saying 'US-R-2 West' actually read 'I-495 South.' I turn to my mother again and say apologetically, "Mom, I don't want to burst your bubble but did you turn onto Route 2?"

"Of course!"

Hmmmm. Exit 16 is for Franklin and Pawtucket RI. Right. Mom realizes that at 6:45 she did not, in fact, take Route 2. We are a good 70 miles off course. No biggie, we'll just be an hour and fifteen minutes later than expected. 5 hours in the car... no problem...

We arrive. I nearly kiss the ground with joy. I head to campus police to collect my key, and we park by my dorm. In 5 trips we manage to get everything in. Crazy how awesome those hand dollies really work! I test my key. ...It doesn't turn. I try again, since sometimes I'm very keytarded. No dice. I check out the numbers on the back... and realize that this key is for the room two floors down from mine.

Well, shiite. It's Saturday. The Locksmith won't be in. I go back to campus police and tell my sad, sad story. They call in the locksmith. 45 minutes later I'm in my room. Everything goes swimmingly, and we're even able to get my fridge out of the garage at work! Awesome.

The rest of the day is beautiful. The farmer's market gets me stocked up on bread and fruit (and yummy peach smoothies mmmm.)

Two days later, I have everything but my printer (somewhere in the dearths of work...) and things are looking great! Wait for updates on classes: Intro to Buddhist Traditions, Sexuality and History in the Contemporary Novel, The Graphic Novel, and Historical Perspectives of the US Criminal Justice System... otherwise known as JAIL since it's taught in a local prison facility with inmates as classmates. My number one priority: don't get shanked.