Cinahilger's Blog



Heh..hey there….

Heh..hey there. I haven’t written since spring break!? Sorry about that.

But I’m not. Sorry, that is. 

Today, despite going to bed at two thirty, I woke up at the crack of eight. I was immediately aware of a large amount of those pill bug things (that build up on your bed sheets, y’know what I’m talking about?) that had coagulated on my fitted sheet. I remembered having read somewhere recently that you can get rid of those with a disposable razor. So in a rare burst of I-just-woke-up-and-am-going-to-do-something-about-this energy, I threw the rest of the blankets off my bed and went to the bathroom for a disposable razor and went to work on the pill bugs.

Sometimes I wish there was a camera in my room. I would love to see the confused and alarmed expression of someone watching me sit up in bed from a dead sleep, throw all the covers off the bed and begin shaving my bed with a bic razor. 

(It worked really well, by the way.)

From there my day got considerably more normal. It’s been one of those wonderful and rare stormy mornings, though by the time I’d re-made my bed and made myself presentable, the fury had died down to a light rain. I betook myself to the south Mill (as is customary Saturday practice…and since it’s summertime now, customary every day practice.) Now the clouds are dispersing and the sun is shining through, proving that even in the throws of June one can still look upon that fiery ball with appreciation, given just a little time away from it.

Summertime, summertime, summertime. 

I’m not at camp this summer, and I’m reminded of that fact about every 5 seconds by some person or thing or elusive feeling that reminds me of yet another moment from camp that I’m missing, whether it’s early morning walks to the river, or the buzz of insects in the dry, raspy grass field, or that feeling that everything is exciting, because when 150 kids are around, everything is. 

I knew that being away from camp would be hard, because I’ve done this one other summer before. But I’d forgotten that it feels very much like someone died; someone you miss dearly and whom every little thing reminds you of. So I have to keep reminding myself of the really difficult things about camp (the only real convincing one I can think of is showering with cicadas). I also have to keep reminding myself of all the things I get to experience by being in Lincoln that I might not otherwise get do. Like wearing skirts, and seeing my family, and going to the Mill every day. Oh, and seeing friends, the ones that like me, didn’t go back to camp. 

Hopefully I’ll be able to enjoy this summer, because since I’m graduating in December, it may be the last relatively stress-free summer I have for a while. And to that end, I should try to stress as little as possible. Hah, like that’ll happen.

 

 

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