inhale exhale

the culmination of hell week?

the moment when you go into your french professor's office to talk about a paper you turned in where you're pretty sure you analyzed the whole play incorrectly for 7 pages so you expect to be reprimanded and instead you encounter praise. he loves your paper and your insightful contributions to the class and how you've grown as a french writer and he tells you about his life and asks about yours. and you come out ecstatic, almost on the verge of tears, this language is yours. and the cherry blossom trees have blossomed, plants are turning green and yellow and pink again, and the sun has come out, and you're coming back to life again.

you just have to write this last paper tonight and then everything will be right again.

5 pm. that's it.

breathe.

i am. i am. i am.