Hi friend.

I'm sorry that I'm ridiculously difficult to get a hold of... You called once while I was at work, and once while I was in a choir rehearsal, and I'm sorry. The phone's on, but I don't answer. Sort of like "the lights are on, but nobody's home," only I'm really there, even though most of the time, I'm not at home. Or something.

Yes. I'm alright. I'm failing out of a class -- maybe two -- and everyone but me seems to think that this is an okay thing to be doing less than 3 weeks before my graduation day. I'm trying very hard to be optimistic, but the best I can muster is nostalgia, or something really close... like retrospection. I take all the blame for this sort of thing. It's not just due to the fact that I procrastinate. Yes, it's procrastination -- plus something Anne Brannen and the rest of the Medievalists call "honest recreation" (on par with believing you should "do something good for yourself" every once in a while), plus the growing hatred I seem to have for all things academic, divided by the number of times I tell myself that there's only 3 weeks and "how bad can it be," equals Meredith not graduating on May 8 as previously planned. It's a deadly equation.

But, other than that... I guess I'm okay. I'm feeling a little wonky every now and then. ("Wonky" like off-balanced, not "wonky" like Willy and his chocolate. And side note: how funny would it have been if Roald Dahl HAD named him Willy Wonky? That would have just been sad.) There's a lot of surreal aspects to my life at the moment, and while I'm adjusting to most of them, sometimes I just look around and wonder, "How did I get here? And how will I ever get back?"

Love,
Meredith