emotional

yesterday, I ate breakfast at 7:30, took a final at 8, wasted a lot of time, and 12 hours later found myself at a place that desperately tried to be home almost 2 years ago. I laughed, I stared, I played Angry Birds, I ate ice cream, I watched laundry, I met new people, I climbed an insane staircase to a bell tower full of bird poo and bat skeletons, sat on a roof, searched in the dark for a place to put my feet, found out that I could have shared an apartment with a 12 foot Pepsi sign, and tried to sleep at 4:30 am. Today I ate breakfast at 10 and then put food on plates for a room full of homeless people, each one with a story screaming to be told and understood, and used to change the lives of others.
then I was gifted lunch from Chipotle.


tomorrow, reality returns with its usual unforgiving, trips-you-down-the-stairs ways.
i think.
i thought i knew which was the dream and which was the staring at the ceiling with your head on a pillow, but I suppose i really don't. and perhaps I never will.
maybe its all a dream, and you wake up when you're 65 and realize you slept through your alarm and you're going to be late for school, once again, and you graduate with the most number of tardy marks in the senior class.

i need to understand how to use multivariable calculus to describe engineering probability models before 8:00 monday morning.