Hippy Happy Hoppy Thursday

The overhead light is still on in my room.

That means things are really serious.

I didn't even keep the overhead light on for my transport studying. Or for biochem. Those merited only the lamp on my desk to keep the papers and keys illuminated, and to keep my body from going into sleepy mode.

But tonight, all stops are out. The final portfolio for Critical Writing is due on Friday, and now that is only a day away. I had a huge burst of creativity and energy Monday night in which I hunched on the hearth by the fire till 3am, pouring out 15 pages of much-needed and much-sought-for material. It has now been nearly four hours since my watch told me it was no long "WE" but "TH." I popped over to Get-Go at 11:00 for snacks--Zours and cheddar ranch Fritos--and I've refilled my Krispey Kreme coffee mug with water twice.

Somehow I almost hate this yellow light filling my room. Perhaps because nothing but darkness stares in through the two windows. Perhaps because it leaves no shadow, no comfy corner, just yellow everywhere. But it's a good thing. It has kept my peripheral vision from convincing my mind that it's time to shut down for the night. It has kept me aware of the piles and stacks and spreads of papers surrounding me on the floor. The notebook and my assignment 13 folder down on the right. My own submissions down on the left, and next to them the in-class samples that we critiqued. On the desk are more of my own works, which I just put there to remind me that I'm supposed to work in DETAIL with this stuff. Examples for everything. Don't get too into a "big picture" mindset, as Dr. Kafka described it in her comments on my assignment 13. That was a startlingly accurate diagnosis. I am a big picture guy, and always have been. But to tie that big picture in to what I actually DID...that is the key.

Oh, I worry so deeply that, when it's all done I will have missed so many points where I needed examples. Points where I didn't connect my reasoning clearly enough for my reader. Points where I make a declaration out of nowhere. Points where I wander through the sentences like a kid lost in a big museum, crawling along with words, bloating my paper, destroying the tight, zinging focus I love so dearly.

Oh well. I have tomorrow, and that's it. And most of tomorrow I'll be gone, getting a drug test for work and hanging out with Rebekah and company as they stop by on their way home for the holiday. For Christmas.

It'll be a late night Thursday, and a very early morning Friday. And from the moment that alarm goes off I will be going full-speed. That night I will sleep in Akron. Lord, help my throat to heal for the One Voice concerts Sunday!

And still I am awake, and the yellow light burns on from the wide white ceiling. My body is getting heavier and heavier, if I will let it, but my eyes are open, and my mind continues to function. We'll see what else I can get out of myself before it's time to call it quits.

This post has been written linearly. Sentence by sentence I constructed it, phrase by phrase as they came to me. U2 throbs from the speakers flanking me. I've listened through SO much music tonight! So don't expect the tight focus I talk about. This post is a mental blood-letting. Perhaps now I can get one last section out before shutting down.

Here's to writing, and here's wishing so badly that I had one more week to hit this thing afresh. There is no substitute for time in writing.

OK, it officially feels like Thursday. Wednesday has passed. It is not Wednesday night any more, it is Thursday morning. I will sleep for awhile, and continue this day. But tomorrow is Friday. Scary.

--Clear Ambassador