I wish I could accurately express here how completely terrible the essay I’ve been writing for my comp class is. I don’t know why it’s so awful, but it is, and I can’t seem to figure out how to change that.
I finally had my favorite Wednesday night class after missing two weeks for inclement weather. Opting to take that class was one of the best decisions I’ve made in terms of my college career thus far (not much to measure, I know), next to taking a Philosophy class my first semester that. It’s been absolutely fantastic. Thinking about writing, reading about writing, talking about writing, writing, and reading excellent writing. Ideal. My class ended at nine thirty and the beautiful Texas weather made for the most perfect of perfect bike rides back to my dorm. I took the longest way home enjoying the cool wind pushing my curly, tangled hair out of my face. A small informal group of college students provided the soundtrack for my bike ride as they gathered with a handful listeners in front of the main fountain on campus. A few guitars, a keyboard, a fiddle (somehow it manages to sound so distinctly from a violin in that setting) and a banjo played a familiar tune by Mumford and Sons in the distance. I hummed along to the tune and put aside my mental to-do list for the evening to simply enjoy the air, the sky, the dim glow of the street lights, the waving trees, the moment.