In case you didn’t know, the weather in the south is fickle and temperamental, prone to sudden tantrums and bouts of rage. Yesterday and today have seen the strength of those episodes.
As I made my way through Alabama and Mississippi to my private college located just ten minutes outside of Jackson, I found my hands gripping the steering wheel tighter and tighter. Rain lashed and pounded the windshield, and I nearly hydroplaned three times. Swaths of rain and gray obscured taillights and turn signals, and I started praying that God would just get me safely to campus.
My hands ached hours after releasing the wheel, and I discovered an irritating crick in my neck from hunching over so much. But I made it in one piece, only to discover that the closest parking spot to my dorm was across the street in a huge lot.
Have you ever tried carrying in a heap of clothes and other essentials all by yourself? I don’t recommend it. My shoulders are still speckled with burst blood vessels from where my backpack straps dug into them.
Today saw a massive swell of rain and wind, leaving my feet red and icy after walking to and from the college bookstore (also across the street) with my textbooks. The street has morphed into a chilly River Styx, with street signs acting as ferrymen for disheveled students who could not care less about the cars grumbling at their stop signs.
However, despite all of that, I find myself in a fairly good mood. Whether it was the success of my first pair of classes, the happiness I felt at obtaining two Norton Anthologies, or the anticipation of a Chinese buffet waiting for me, I have retained a calmness I did not think would stay with me.
I’m sure I could philosophize and muse on what this all means (the storms of life against my success and attitude), but I really don’t want to. For now, I just want to enjoy the softness of my blanket and the Green Day songs spewing from my laptop speakers.
But who knows? Maybe I’ll have a great epiphany and expound on all of this tomorrow.