If you were to listen closely, I bet that right about now, you would be able to hear a faint crackling sound coming from my direction- No need to worry though, that’s only the sound of my brain shorting out and hemorrhaging from both my ears. Ah, the stress that has left me without words to share through the blog and emails alike sent me back into hiding for a little bit there, nursing an intense headache and a terrible case of procrastination. Thanks to this brilliant [Read: Moronic] tactic, there’s only more to stress over, with essays approaching their due dates at light-speed and emails coming in faster than I can hit the “refresh” key, and I’m feeling just a little bit… Overwhelmed. That’s where the brain explosions come in.
Hoping to salvage at least part of my remaining grey matter, I thought it might be helpful to take a deep breath and try to relax a little bit, without completely absconding from my duties. Easier said than done, right? Figuring that there was no harm in trying to soothe aggravated nerves in any way possible, the first issue to tackle was the clutter overflowing from every nook and cranny of my work space. There’s only so much room in a dorm, you know, and I’m already storing a medium-sized pumpkin under my bed! (It’s a long story…) Once there was enough hidden away in closets in draws to at least pretend that the room was clean, it seemed only right to do a small bit of re-decorating in a way that would perpetuate my new “zen” approach, and lucky for me, I found a cute little pot of bamboo to adorn the window sill with while putting off my school work again.
That was all well and good, but in no time at all, I noticed that this bamboo did not come alone. An incredible and preposterous situation it would seem, but there was no denying it- Some small creature had bummed a ride and smuggled itself into the greenery!
As if my mind wasn’t frazzled enough, how do you expect me to explain the presence of a panda here in New England, in the brisk days of fall, no less!? Preparing to go hide under the covers of my bed again until this mirage had disappeared, I was struck by how deep his blue eyes were, staring intently and purposefully at me.
What was he trying to tell me? If only he would say. Remaining stone silent, he simply clung close to his bamboo and watched me from afar, looking neither happy nor sad. Since there was no way that I would get through all of this work with a cheerful smile plastered on my face, I realized that perhaps his approach might actually be helpful, if I could just take it all in, get through it, and save my intensity for later. So I guess it’s thanks to that black and white critter that I’m back on the blog and about to dig into those essays at last- Just don’t expect me to slog through it all in one go, feeling “zen” or not!