Friday, March 7, 2003

After running some errands today, dear reader, I felt a sudden rush of Spring Fever. Thank God for these moments, let me tell you.

Though I left my favorite barber for a chilly twenty-seven degrees Fahrenheit, I was compelled to take off my jacket and run. And so I dashed all the way up North from South Evanston, belly full of food, my backpack full of knowledge, hair freshly cut, papers all handed in. And while I ran with my chin up, hands supple, back straight, a French–or Turkish, I suppose–fellow shouted to me.

“Vat are you doink? Are you crazy?”

“Yes!” I replied, jogging past him.

“Your college years,” my mum told me one evening, “will be the best years of your life. They won’t happen again.”

She may very well be right, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself this afternoon. Even the sky, taciturn and an insolent gray, affected me little. What a glorious day, gentle reader, and I wish you a Happy Friday.