The Eve

The eve of a somewhat important event or journey always feels like that jittery moment before you step into a dark room. The rising and falling of the dominant foot is preceded by that slight hesitation and a substantial show of bravery on the part of your toes. Another hesitation follows while the brain comes to terms with the fact that millions of spiders haven't devoured your flesh, or the ghost of a pre-pubescent girl who looks like she got dunked in a pond and later beaten with an ugly stick hasn't appeared to scare the living shit out of you. Yes, this jittery moment is not kind on your pride, but the room must be crossed. Spiders and ugly-wet girl or not. For me, this jittery moment is merely the trip back to my college town, back to homework and late nights with flashcards, back to public transit, and back to walking home because I am so sick of waiting for the damn bus!
Senior year. The ootz is quivering at all the possibilities that 9 months in my college town could bring. However, my sensibilities and utter devotion to schoolwork are savagely beating the ootz with  frying pans and over-priced textbooks.
Find a balance. I hear that a lot. Find an activity you love. I hear that a lot too.
I tried it last year and failed. Failed like the long since repressed Cookie monster would fail in a Keebler factory. Anyways, I won't be defeated, but I won't ignore compromise either. I will start with a 70/30 "balance" and see what I can accomplish. My chosen, and later ignored, activities will be swimming and Tango. Maybe I will do both at once to save time. Maybe I will do neither and eat Keebler out of house and home.
Tomorrow I go. My toes are brave. The ootz is in critical condition.