A day late and a dollar short

Greetings, friends! I hope that you're all well. Life's a bit crazy for the next little while, but I figured I have to update in order to keep at least one of you reading this silly thing, since my last post is two weeks old. Thanksgiving was wonderful, I got to spend some time with people who I'd been missing, eat a lot of food, hold my new neice for a bit, go bowling, make a snowman, and dance the night away. Ok, so I lied about the dancing the night away thing, you caught me. Papers are progressing slowly, but I'll have them done on time, since that's my only option. Tests are coming up, but so far I've been in good health, so I may beat my two-year streak of being ill during finals, but I shouldn't jinx that. I submitted my application to graduate from this fine institution of higher learning today, and baring the possibility of failing any of my classes I'll bid adieu to Hillsdale College in may. On one hand, that seems like a very long time, but on the other hand, not so much. It's Advent, which is nice. I tend to need every reminder possible that nothing's forever and He's coming back at some point. It beats getting bogged down in the day-to-day stuff, which I have a tendency to do. My room's cluttered with laundry dirty and clean, books and papers and class handouts and writing utensils everywhere. Nothing's where I once decided it should be. I find that my room often serves as a metaphor, or maybe just a direct reflection of the rest of my life, so I'd better clean up and organize both. Days seem shorter this time of year, and I sometimes wonder where all the time I used to have is gone, and why I've accomplished so much less than I set out to. I guess that's life, though. Echoes and whispers and walks on moonlit nights where you can see your breath and your ears get so cold that they hurt all pile up like words on a page that nobody bothered to organize into complete sentences and thoughts, and no one seems to be going anywhere but they're always walking anyways. Cars can slide on roads better than they roll sometimes, and things can fall apart much easier than they can be accomplished most of the time, not much we can do about that than put the cork back on the chablis, get up outta the easy chair and keep trying to treadmill uphill. Yessir, we run a tight ship around here, as long as time keeps breathing down our necks, but don't expect too much or else you'll be angry as hell when you find out your snot-nosed brat got that tatoo without asking you, and she's hanging out with absolutely the wrong kind of sweater-wearing pansy. Hell, he might even play guitar, and you know those guys ain't goin' nowhere. Light, smoke, crash, burn, et cetera, you couldn't hit the floor unless you fell on it, which you're probably going to do pretty soon.