procrastination

the sun has been a little more prevalent these days, the californian capri culture is reappearing, and i cherish my walks home. somedays when the shaded sidewalk curves up to our apartment door, i quicken my pace and pass time wandering alongside the gated national cemetary.

yesterday had the potential to be one of these days, but oh how it buckled under that pressure!

yesterday the sky yellowed and blued, and i put a slew of midterms behind me. despite the exams, papers, and my supersweaty post-gym self, yesterday wasn't all that shabby until the walk home. somehow, somewhere, an evasive little pebble found a way to wedge itself between my heel and the sole of my shoe. it slid toward my toes and i shoved a clumbsy finger into the sneaker to pluck it out. unsuccessful. damn. as i crossed over gayley and headed up the First Hill, the sharp little thing patiently ate away at my left sock. by the time i tossed my asics from my pink feet, my white sock featured a dime-sized patch of blood, and my foot, having done nothing to deserve the pain, yearned for a warm bath.

at the beginning of each quarter, professors toss us each a little stone. we slide it into jean pockets, and it cuddles against a loose seam. around fifth week, it slips through denim threads and when only two weeks remain in the quarter, it begins to graze the ankle. we have fourteen days- or ten, depending on when our finals are- to retrieve the pesky rock and polish it, all the while pampering our feet, bandaging their open sores caused by our own carelessness.

such is the cycle of term papers.