Personal Log 1

Home. So tired. I’ve been up for so long I’m not sure what the numbers on the clock mean anymore. They’ve become sequential wanderers without a purpose, marching towards an unknown destination. There’s a surreal feeling in my apartment tonight. Lights are off, the only sound floating in on the cool New York breeze crossing the barrier usually guarded by my window. I’ve been pouring the fundamentals of Calculus into my overcrowded brain non-stop for the past three days. Today was my midterm, the culmination of constant cramming since 7am yesterday morning. That’s 39 hours of limits, continuity, rules of differentiation and theorems that have all melded into an incoherent set of rules to operate on functions that I’m still not sure represent an ultimate purpose. Success has yet to be determined, as grades will not be posted for a few days.

As I slowly loose consciousness I am acutely aware of the mound of responsibilities that have patiently waited for this milestone to pass. The list of overdue activities stands at the door to tomorrow like a sentry charged with my imprisonment. I take solace in the fact that I have no escape and can therefore welcome the imminent veil of slumber without reservation or evasion.

Good night…