Today.

(this whole thing is pointless until I get to the point) (or: how history majors write)

Today was the first day of the rest of my life.

Katie apologized for not leaving me a note like I did for her approximately 2 years ago. But, then, I didn't roll out of bed long enough to wave she or Claire goodbye from the balcony or at least offer a hearty hug so we'll call it even.

Of note: I don't have class (i.e. responsibilities) until 1 p.m. on m/w/f. So really today was in no way a reflection of what the rest of my life will be like.

My alarm went off at a respectable 9 a.m. I mumbled something about how I was going to get up because if I was going to set an alarm it was inconsiderate to my roommate and really stupid to not make use of it.

Then I proceeded to go back to sleep until she came back sometime around 10:30. At which point I went back to sleep until 11:30.

I am not proud of this.

I had an excellent time pumping myself up for some Human Geography which I showed up for approximately 25 minutes early because I've forgotten how to gauge the commute. The next couple of weeks will be about determining how close I can cut it before I'm late. The couple of weeks after that I'll probably end up late.

I then went to Psych of Personality in a 100 degree heated room with the biggest personality for a teacher I feel I have yet to come across in my college career. Should be fun.

Went to WalMart with Claire where we had a hilarious time picking out a singing card for Katie before picking up an "O" Magazine for kicks and giggles. I bought 80 million cans of soup (or 15) and some collard greens. I only eat those usually once a year (on new years), but every time I remember how much I like them. So I'll at least have them twice this year.

Cutting edge.

Oh! Claire got Jewish communion wine-- mostly because it was blackberry. It tasted like a bunch of melted jolly ranchers that was slightly spiked. There were then a few random episodes of Scrubs whilst I did my best to muster energy for Big D's party tonight and honestly dreaded the wait at Capitol Ale House on the first $1 Burger night of the semester.

Then there was no wait at all and the company was really delightful and we had a rockin' "after party" consisting of Dina, the "desert people," going on about the cold as we bought ice cream and the three of us playing Scattergories for the first time since 1998.

Priceless.

The day gloriously ended with Katie, Claire and I watching youtube videos of George H.W. Bush and Ellen commandeering "O" Magazine.

They've since scurried far away since the longevity of my youtube surfing skills is next to unmatched and they would like some sleep since they did not sleep in until 11:30 like bums me.

In my defense, it was 10:30 central time. I blame jet lag. "".

Anyway, this is what a pointless post reads like.

I say that because I've been told all of my stuff is so heavy these days. I write all of this so I can remember what normal was for me in college. Because I know there will be (and I look forward to) the day that I cannot fathom sleeping 'til 11:30. I also write because I want to look back at these words and feel the conviction.

Where is the point? Why should people care about what I've done with my very average self in the same amount of time everyone else gets to live out the day?

I want to see in my words and in myself that I'm right in thinking "they shouldn't." There is not much in my "normal" day to point to as worthy of emulation. Reading these words and noticing the glaring lackluster-ness pushes me to find something of worth in myself.

The something that is actually the someone I asked in 15 years ago. The someone who tells me I'm worth many, many long waits at Capitol Ale House and so is she. The someone who tells me my days do not have to be so painstakingly normal because I could love others with even a measure of the depth that he loves me. The days don't have to be "normal" because extraordinary things keep happening under my nose. The days shouldn't be assumed to be "normal" because contrary to my earlier assumption, not everyone does get the same amount of time to live out the day.

It may have been the first day of the rest of my life.

But it could have been the last day of my life.

And what would it have pointed to?

A pointless post.

So I am off to meet for a while with God as if the purpose of my life depends on it. As if I actually desire to love him with the fury he loved me with first.

Today. It won't happen again tomorrow.