Living near a university and working at one too means that, like it or not, your life ebbs and flows according to the academic calendar. Right now we're in that quiet period between summer session and fall session. The bike room at work is deserted. The uptown campus is quiet and empty. Faculty are on vacation and unreachable. At home, the first of the new crop of students is starting to move into the many apartments in the neighborhood. There are "for rent" signs all over the place as landlords try to avoid having to advertise in the newspaper, preferring to rent to Tulane students. Across the street is a 4-plex with two new tennants. Last year's women's basketball players are long gone, and I havent yet figured out the new students. There are clues, of course. The out-of-state license plates, for example. Somehow, just love the continual change.
So the last of the excess apartment furniture is stacked outside awaiting the garbage trucks. I'm restless and unsettled, anxious to see what the new semester will bring. Like the new med student who was checking out the bike room at work when I arrived yesterday who thought it was "awesome."
Having never gone away to college myself, I've always felt I missed something important. Perhaps that's why the new academic year still seems exciting and new to me despite the fact that my own life is terminably stable and boring.
Except, of course, for the bike racing part . . .
I've had a couple of extra glasses of wine tonight. Can you tell?
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