Dillard is thrilling in the crush of spring. Trees and grasses and flowers are bustin' out all over. It is the time before destructive insects hatch and devour the beauty. I imagine the air is still cool in the evening and temperate during the day. The sky is not a headache of heat and humidity.
It is the second day of May, and I have submitted my final grades to the university. The students have packed up and left campus for home or summer jobs. As I sit in my office in the English Department, silence runs up and down the hallway like a mute kindergartner. There are no arguing grad students. No phones ringing. I am not concerned that a student will come knocking on my door as I type this post. Spring has arrived at the university.
This past weekend is a blur of papers and final exams. Piles and piles of them. I finished the last of my grade calculations at about 12:30 this morning. I am weary and a little sick. I have a cough that won't go away, and my eyes are burning for a nap. I hate May colds. Just as the weather gets nicer and snow has become a not-too-distant memory, I will probably be taking to my sick bed this evening. At the very least, I will pass out on the couch for a few hours after I eat dinner.
Lack of sleep never used to bother me that much. I survived on about five hours of sleep a night for years. If I got six or seven hours of rest, I used to feel like I'd wasted the day. Now, one of my greatest pleasures in life is napping. Putting my head back, closing my eyes, and drifting off to unworried slumber. I rarely do this. Generally, my life does not permit this kind of luxury.
But, I can tell that my body needs to rest tonight. Every one of my muscles is telling me this. So, on this May 2, as the world is waking up after a long winter's nap, I will be closing my eyes and . . . just . . . hibernating.
Wake Saint Marty up for the Fourth of July parades.
One of life's mysteries solved . . . |
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