I came here to study while I sip my gingerbread soy misto. Somehow, I've accomplished drinking even more pretentious drinks after graduating from my years of coffee shops.
I came here, opened a new document, intent on powering through 3000 words on the canonical interpretation of Malachi 4:5–6.
And yet, here I sit on a beautiful December day where the rain is falling but no one seems to care because Christmas is almost here. Here I sit, not working on my paper.
Instead, I smile as I think about seeing my family and handing them presents I'm sure they'll love. Here I sit, wondering if I could really write a paper on the theology of androgyny for my senior thesis. Here I sit wondering if I could really pull off painting the Starbucks Christmas bird on my lounge wall and if the girls would love it or think I've embraced capitalism.
Here I sit dreaming.
And I don't regret it.
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