This week has been quite the whirlwind. The best part of this whirlwind is that most of it has been spent with my head in stacks of books. I’m currently buried under piles of research for several papers that are due before Thanksgiving, and while I am quite enjoying the time spent alone with characters from Shakespeare as well as those from Medieval Literature, I am bone-tired
I spent last night curled up in front of my computer catching up on television shows while the rest of the world numbed the throbbing pains of the week with just enough liquid courage to approach Friday with a brave face. Having come back from my job at the theater around10:30, I simply couldn’t work up the nerve to head into the cold again. It was a rather pathetic little Thursday, but I do not regret it, and I’m sure my wallet will thank me.
Regardless of the potent mix of exhaustion and stress which is clinging to me like static currently, I must say that I find this time of year invigorating. We are hurtling toward the holidays, which means that as I write I get to play Christmas music without any regrets. The city is just beginning to sparkle, and the blustering, frigid temperatures (Wednesday was particularly brutal) are kissed with a hint of promise about the next month and a half. I suppose that I have residual sentimentality about the holiday season as a result of my own childhood experiences, but the sound of carillon bells still sends my heart soaring.
May your Fridays be well-spent, everyone. It’s back to the books for me.