Writing Every Day

After my Lenten goal to write every day was so successful, I promptly dropped the "write every day" goal and lapsed into laziness, May Term, and summer vacation. Naturally, now that I'm back at school and procrastination is necessitated by the existence of homework, I'm bringing back my goal to actually write every day. And I am proud to say that I have written every day for 11 days now. Which I would say was a record, but that would be a downright lie since Lent is 40 days. Not including Sundays. I think.

Anyway, in writing every day again, my calendar is pleasantly populated by happy little orange x's on the days that I write, and my notebook has stopped complaining that it's gathering dust. I personally think that such a complaint is unfounded merely because I consistently find myself moving my notebook from one side of the bookshelf to the other if only to keep it from staring at me. Because I worry about these things.

And now instead of reading about Shakespeare's historical context, I'm typing on a blog that I really only use to blabber to myself about randomness since there's very little point in anyone else reading it. Mostly because it may not make sense to anyone who either considers themselves sane or don't know me. So apparently blabbering about my own blabber is totally acceptable.
Since I'm the only one who reads this blog anyway. :^P

Transition

Transition and I are not friends.
Back in elementary school, I used to cry before going into the new school year because I would be in a different grade with a different teacher, and some different friends. I'm pretty sure I did the same thing when I went from elementary school to middle school, a transition that only I and a couple of my friends from elementary school were doing because we would otherwise have gone through 8th grade at our former school. If that makes any sense.
And it would follow that I did the same thing or similar when I went from 8th grade to high school. Though I don't remember.

I don't remember crying before going off to college. I remember being worried, and I remember fretting over every tiny detail of my packing well in advance. That was probably the most prepared I was before leaving for a year of college. I cried once I got there, but that was homesickness, and it only came at night. Or when I was alone.
I haven't cried yet this year, but I have begun to experience a certain lack of motivation. This is my third time going off to college, and the first year I'm starting off as an RA instead of a Staff Alternate. So of course there are differences. But Transition and I are not friends, so I've hit a wall in my packing and I don't really feel like reading the summer reading book that I'm supposed to so I can talk to my freshmen about it.
I want to go, but I don't want to prepare for it. I would rather take off with whatever I had with me at the time and send for the rest of my things.
But maybe that's my lack of motivation talking.