what it is.

i feel the days blending into each other. i want to give each day its own significance. i want to remember each day as its own. but before i am too hard on myself, it is third year and this is the hardest year and i cannot let myself get distracted by these things. would i like to sit on my bed, my lamp on, blankets wrapped around me, with a cup of hot cocoa and read tolstoy? yes, very much so. would i like to go home before Christmas? much more. so i think ill get back to my lecture notes. and save the fireside reading for michigan.