I’m at the point in my life/semester/being where I’m overwhelmed by living–it’s just so damn exciting. I wake up and get to learn, get to work, get to work out, get to read, get to love, get to eat, get to dance (my knee is more or less healed), I get to be.
I get to listen to 2ne1’s new album and RuPaul’s new album. AKA life is good.
      
I find myself so excited, or so overwhelmed by emotion, or so confused, that I cannot breath. Akin to panic/anxiety attacks, this type of attack is, what I’ve learned, what it means for me (in this moment) to be alive. It’s like an eternal trill on pick-your-instrument. So exciting, so fast, so pretty, so alarming.
I finished (one of) my favorite book(s) yesterday. I got to jog two days in a row. I frolicked in the sun. I made an amazing meal. I met a friend’s girlfriend. I spent much needed time with a semi-significant other. And, of course, bad things happened, but it’s in this moment that I just need to celebrate the good stuff.
Tomorrow (after 4:30) marks the first inhalation of Spring Break and I’ll be holding my breath until it ends.
It’s like when you step into UMMA, wander upstairs, and see Monet *literally* just peeking at you. It’s like wandering into a club to see your friend DJ-ing. It’s like walking down the street and having someone across the intersection belting Beyonce. It’s like almost slipping on ice and then catching yourself in a bush. Pretty much the best thing ever.
So even if I’m utterly bored by still being in undergrad. Even if it surprised snowed at me after a Bio exam (#lol). Even if everyone is really a mess. Even if I will have never gone anywhere for Spring Break EVER.
I still have this one panicked breath. And that, really, is all I need.
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