it is well with my soul.

Today started out pretty well. After going to bed at 2am, I got up at 7:30 to finish up a couple of chapters of reading before my 9:30. Finished. Breakfast. Just before 9am, heading out the door, with my umbrella. As always, I have checked the weather.

Chance of rain today.
Hour-by-hour:
9am - 20% chance;
10am - 75% chance;
11am - 15% chance.

So, it's going to rain at 10am. I'll be in class.

Two and a half blocks... TWO and a HALF blocks from my house, the sprinkling turns into torrential downpour. Not even straight down, but slightly out of the north so that my jeans are now plastered to my legs, and though I am doing my best to avoid the huge puddles in the sidewalk, it doesn't matter because there are now huge puddles in my shoes. Seeing that my jeans are completely soaked and there is no way I can sit in class like this, I turn around and go back to the house.

About a block away, a guy in a red truck pulls up and ask if I need a ride anywhere. I tell him I'm real close. That was really nice of him. I could have used him about five minutes earlier while I was still dry, but the world needs more nice guys in red trucks.

So, I'm trying to protect the essentials like my cell phone and iPaq, keeping them close to my body and above the waist. After the guy with the truck leaves, I started running. I'm pretty sure I lost a bottle of water from my bookbag in the process, which I don't notice is starting to flop open with my awkward running-while-wearing-and-backpack-and-carrying-an-umbrella motions. I make it to the house and strip off my jeans, shoes, and socks. 9:10am. I'm doing okay on time; I'm definitely driving to campus. I have no clean pairs of jeans, so I throw on some Nike shorts (I realize later they are on backwards) and some adidas pants, dry tennis shoes, and grab my keys and get out the door.

(Though I moved off campus, I still have my parking pass. I rarely drive to campus, but in situations like this, a residence hall parking pass comes in very handy.)

So, I make it to class by 9:30. When I sit down, I begin removing everything from my backpack, which is drenched. The three essays I am turning in today have wrinkly, watery edges and while I can get over some damp notebooks and novels, I am disappointed that a brand new book I just bought has accrued water damage around the edges (not horribly so, but the cover is crinkly at the top and bottom). Wah-waah. Bummer.

Fortunately my Dickens professor realizes we're all fried/intellecutally comatose from finishing our final essays, and the discussion is brief. Unfortunately, since I spent late last night and this morning finishing my reading, we didn't even have a quiz. I want my points, dang it. But we do get out of class 30 minutes early. I go to the library where I have an early lunch and do a little reading in my brand new but now crinkly book on emergent churches. As I'm sorting through my backpack and preparing to head out to my 11:30, I find three Reisens in an inside pocket of my backpack. Cha-ching! Awesome. They're a little smooshed, but still very chocolately and delicious.

I also have an essay due in Intro. to Irish Poetry and Enviornmentalism. My teacher promised us a surprise today since we have finished our essays. The surprise is an Irish movie, scones, and tea. I just ate lunch, but some tea sounds lovely. Fortunately she's set the pot up near my desk. Easy access. After the first eager students get their food and drink, I get up and serve myself some tea. I'm turning to grab a scone, and I ____d___r____o____p___ my tea. :-(

Man down.

Ah, yes. Fresh black tea all over a green tile floor. Fortunately most of the class is distracted by our professor's trying to figure out technology, so I slip out the door to get paper towels from the bathroom. How embarrassing, nonetheless. It takes me two trips for a sufficient amount of paper towels and once I clean it up, I slide back into my seat. No tea for me. . .

You know, getting completely soaked and then dropping a cup of tea that I was really looking forward to drinking seem pretty minor, but on a normal day I might have found myself ready to cry out of frustration. Not today. I am two days of class (Tuesday/Thursday next week) away from being free from the world of academia. My huge essays are all finished, and aside from finals and about 200 pages of Dickens' Our Mutual Friend, the rest of this trip is downhill. I don't anticipate stressing about finals at all. I'll make some tea at home, and my clothes are on the clothesline drying in the afternoon sun. No way. I'm keeping my joy today.

Thursday afternoon, b r i n g. i t.