I'm not sure of many of you, but I don't live on campus, and as such I commute by train. Navigating slippery platforms and stairs at seven in the morning is not something I recommend to anyone. Nor is shoveling out the driveway because the neighbors don't know how to pull their cars into the driveway, causing the plows to have to bank around the vehicle. Nor is walking to classes, trying to keep you face out of the wind but not being able to because no matter where you turn the wind decides to blow in the opposite direction.
Complaining aside, I still find myself more or less pleased. I'm now in a warm room, hot coco in hand, sweatpants taking place of muddy and ice soaked jeans, under a blanket. This is familiar, comforting. I'm exceedingly childish in my creature comforts but - the way I see it- if I have to be an adult everywhere else I can pretend to be a kid again here. If only to get warm again.
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