BitterSweet

If you blinked, you might have easily missed the first half of the academic semester just like I must have, because all of a sudden, numerous lengthy assignments have been dropped right at my feet, due tomorrow for the midterm grade. No, they didn’t just suddenly drop out of the sky without the slightest warning, but I can’t help but feel slightly surprised at how quickly the days are rushing passed, especially when it feels as if I’m simultaneously accomplishing less and less. Less blogging, less baking, less crafting- All so that school can take the center stage, much against my true wishes. But when at college, what’s a student to do?

Hunched over at my desk, scribbling indecipherable notes day in and day out, I’m afraid that my 7 page essay on classic sociology theory will still be 4 or 5 pages shy on the day of reckoning. It’s not a terribly difficult subject or anything, it’s just the formality of writing in MLA format, double-spaced, 1-inch margins, citations for every fact… It’s so deadening. Not like writing in any sense that I’d like to think of it, I’d rather undergo painful dentistry than finish out that final argument and cap it off with an equally exciting page or two of bibliography. Still, there’s little choice but to persist, despite the abundant temptations to focus on different activities…

Glancing up from the endless stream of incomprehensible text before me, I saw that a friend had come to visit, looking eager to romp around outside and enjoy the gorgeous daylight. While the last thing I wanted to do was to stay cooped up inside, pounding away at this frustrating paper, I simply couldn’t justify taking a break at such a late stage in the game. It was now or never, and if the report wasn’t written by the end of the day, it would end up being never. Disappointed, my friend’s face fell when he heard my response, and turned away, sullen.

Buckling down once again, only 2 or 3 more sentences flowed from my pen before I realized that I was being watched, and lo and behold, my friend had returned once again, this time with a delightful ball of yarn in tow. He seemed to be taunting me, teasing me, Don’t you want to play with the fantastic ball of yarn? It was all an elaborate ruse, of course, since he was more interested in playing fetch than knitting up a new project, but that wasn’t important. What mattered most was prying me from my position, prone in front of the death sentence of an assignment, no matter the means. Tempted terribly to abandon ship, it took all the willpower I could muster to stay and continue working, avoiding his distracting trap. Shaking off the restless feeling building up, I tried yet again to finish my work. Slowly but surely getting back in the groove, I felt certain that I would be done in no time at this pace. But then, I looked up and saw my friend had returned yet again, with some other lure at hand…

Wait a sec- A ginger Newman O?! Where on earth did you get that? I finished the box a week ago, at least! Hey, come back here with that cookie! Hey, if I go play with you for a bit, can I have it? Where’s that yarn ball- Come on, you win, just give me the cookie!!

Everyday, the sight outside my third floor dorm room window is looking more and more autumnal. Leaves slowly making the transition from vivid greens to more the subdued, modest hues of fall, acorns swelling and growing to the size of luscious cherries, hidden just behind those colorful drapes- How this season is commonly thought of as a time of decay completely escapes me, considering the continued progression of renewed life, albeit in more subtle visions than the flashy explosions of blooms so synonymous with spring. Before long, I began to hear a curious new beat to accompany the standard symphony of daily dorm life, a sharp tap… tap, tap! as inconsistent as it was jarring. At first I was convinced that hailstones had begun to fall in a freak twist of weather patterns, but all one had to do was step outside and see the ground littered with spent acorns to know the source.

And there they all lay, strewn like spent confetti, covering the sidewalks and streets, just waiting to be whisked away by hungry critters preparing for the first frost. Enter, the squirrel- Or should I say, squirrels, as there seem to be almost as many of those bushy-tailed rodents are there are acorns, and believe me, that’s a hell of a lot of squirrels.

A breed apart from the squirrels I used to share my lawn with at home, these large rats are surprisingly aggressive, exactly the opposite that the plentiful bounty of acorns might suggest. Don’t let those cute pointed ears and gentle, rounded eyes fool you- These guys? They wouldn’t flinch in the face of an on-coming tank if it meant they could gather more nuts. Chased up a tree, they’ve been known to throw twigs and leaves at their perceived attackers, refusing to budge until their opponents have given up first.

Honestly, with the numbers and strength of that growing squirrel army… I think that instead of worrying about capturing the last small bites of summer and preparing for the cold that is sure to come, perhaps they should be a cause of concern!