Is it weird that I'm not especially excited to go back to Oxford? Like, I like it, and I miss my friends, but I'm fully aware that this term is going to kick my ass and I'm not especially looking forward to frantically reading and looking around and realizing that it's somehow March. I'm also not especially looking forward to arriving in Minneapolis at 9:15, having to recheck my bags, and then sitting around for a couple hours, which is similarly weird because I usually love the Minneapolis airport. I think I love it less, though, when I know that I still have to fly to Chicago, take a red eye to Heathrow, and then catch a bus (with suitcases!) to Oxford, where I have to trek over to my college, get my keys, and walk twenty minutes in the freezing cold to my flat. Something about that sort of sucks the wind out of my sails.
In other news, packing a mere six hours before you leave the country for an undetermined amount of time also sucks the wind out of my sails. I'm running on fumes, and I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm not actually going to sleep tonight. Luckily, the internet just gave me about two days worth of music, so I'm going to crank that up and get cracking. Thanks, internet!
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