It cheered me up some -- I've been in a pretty bleak mood lately. [Warning: I'm about to overstretch a metaphor, so y'all literary-critterary types, bail now!] This part of the semester always gets me down -- the part where there isn't a light at the end of the tunnel, yet, because you're not *in* the tunnel yet, you've just come around one mountain to see that the road leads straight into a dark, huge mountain and it's just this little black hole that you're headed straight for. And you only have a few moments left to turn on your headlights and decide if you like the lane you're in. (Can we tell I've travelled the PA turnpike through the mountains a few times?)
I can deal with the huge pressure of finals -- it can be exhilarating, and I work best under pressure. It's the time just before that that I don't handle well. In the spring, the cherry trees used to cheer me up, since they'd bloom just as the dark times were starting. And then the lilacs would take over from there. But this isn't Swarthmore, and it's fall, not spring. And I'm sick, and exhausted on so many levels.
I want to sleep, wake up, take a final exam, and go back to sleep for a few weeks. Then I'll be ready to start a new semester. Not gonna happen.
And, topping it all off, Dave and I are on the brink of having one of our old recurring fights. We're both scrambling for some way to work around it, and we're both better at thinking outside the box, relationship-wise, now, but we haven't found a solution yet, and the angst is building. He's coming over now, 'cause I need a hug so that I don't end up crying myself to sleep. It'll be okay, eventually, but I'm confused and, as I think I mentioned before, exhausted.
Also, to top it all off, on my way to ECD, some jerk had the nerve to cuss me out while I was biking through Harvard Square. I'd just *gone through* the tunnel and made a left onto Mass. Ave in fairly heavy traffic, in the pitch dark with one little blinky light and wearing dark clothes. So I pull up to the red light at the intersection where Out-Of-Town news is, up next to a car, waiting to do the weird Harvard thing since I'm not sure where I'm going. (Turns out I didn't need to go that way at all, and could have cut through the campus courtyard, but that's beside the point.) So another bicyclist, male, young-middle-aged, pulls up behind me and asks me to let him by. First off, there's nowhere I could go, really, since there are still hordes of pedestrians less than a full bikelength ahead of me. Second, there's *no turn on red* there, and really, pulling out a few seconds early just means that I'll have a whole horde of cars behind me when I try to turn left to stay on Mass Ave. So I say "the light is red", and the guy asks to get by again. I repeat that the light is red, he calls me an asshole, gets off his bike and up onto the sidewalk, walks into the crowd of pedestrians and remounts, and then goes the wrong way straight up the one way facing traffic. Um, traffic laws? After he called me an asshole the first time, I said "I follow traffic laws." Upon which he repeated the epithet. Sigh. Boston drivers are bigtime jerks. But we knew that already...