I should write a book on how to cure two months’ worth of sleep deprivation with a half-hour’s worth of lying in a dark room. The only problem is that I don’t know how it happens. I’m up again and need to write.
My life is full of peculiarities, as I’ve already written about, and a few have been re-inspired today both by classmates and my own newly heightened awareness of certain things.
As I found my seat at the long lunch table I claim with my friends for 30 minutes around noontime, a sweet scent made its way to my nose. It quickly passed. I sat down and it came back. Then disappeared again. The aroma came and went for ten minutes before I finally pinpointed it and began the search. Apple pie was the culprit–apple pie containing too much nutmeg. I couldn’t find it. I was disappointed. After sniffing around for a few minutes, I decided to stand and survey the surrounding tables. No pie was visible, yet the odor continued to assault my nose. To the chant of my friends begging me to sit back down, I began to pace the commons, inspecting tables, sniffing lunch boxes, and embarrassing the group I returned to. I surrendered to the vast size of the commons in which we ate and accepted that I couldn’t find the original source of the pie flavored air. But it wasn’t over. I went up to french and was greeted with more scents than I care to repeat. I identified most of them and could even find their sources in the smaller setting. The small success in the feat thrilled me, though I admit that some odors were certainly better left outside, drifting on the wind.
As I sat analyzing the experience on paper in my writing class, I recalled the trend in my vision. The eyes that call my body home are far from perfect–I wear glasses with quite a thick lens–but I have grown to pride myself on their abilities lately. Colors are my specialty. I can pick out an eraser and tell whether or not it belongs to a certain set I haven’t yet seen it with because of a difference in coloration. I could always spot the endpoint in a titration far before anyone else in my chem class. And I have learned to apply this effectively to my acrylics as I dye canvases and papers. However… My vision has been fading in the last two weeks. Some might blame it on my dirty glasses, others on changing light, but I’ve experienced both and can usually counter either one. I’m not trying to say I’ll be blind anytime soon, but my eyes are changing once again. Maybe it’s connected to the growing sniffer just below them?
“There is nothing to fear but fear itself.” While not completely true, this does hit pretty close to home. Any fear is simply a fear of the unknown. We are equally afraid of being either “inadequate” or “powerful beyond measure” (if I may borrow from two separate quotes). We are afraid of being forced to lead just as much as we are afraid of being left behind. And both are just as similar to the fear we feel toward the monster that might be lurking behind us in the shadows as we turn out the lights and race from our dark basements. The adrenaline we receive from a good fright may very well save us some day, but apprehension is something to be understood and utilized, not to be surrendered to in fear of life.
Who doesn’t like the occasional pinched nerve or restricted circulation? I’m not going to say that it’s always enjoyable, but I’m sure everyone has had fun waking up a sleeping limb or torturing friends with icicle-hands at least once. My hands and feet are always falling asleep and freezing. During a cold run my hands will turn purple and orange; after three miles on a bike my right foot will fall asleep; and more recently my left foot has developed a stabbing sensation with each step around mile 5 of the occasional run. I got to school today and Lauren’s hands were just as frozen as mine, so of course we compared, then got a few friends to jump as ice was lain gently across their necks. Aren’t friends great?
As always, feel free to add any personal experiences to today’s sampling of observations.