Evening now, but morning soon to follow.

• The sky was a cool gray today and this is going to be another end-of-the-semester list.
• Only a week and a half of classes remain and I’ve been thinking about what you do when you know you only have a limited amount of time left in a space.
• But that’s always, isn’t it? Only sometimes the deadline becomes tangible and concrete, solidifying in our bones and pushing up at our feet as we trace the sidewalk, walking forward and past.
• I did the recommended reading and maybe I should have waited, timed it better, when the consequent bad dreams wouldn’t have interrupted my productivity and my sleep schedule. I still haven’t returned the book from my OverDrive app.
• And it’s been preemptive nostalgia for weeks.
• I went up to the sixth floor of Boylan at the beginning of this semester, going around to the parts of the school that I’d never been to, taking too many photos for my already filled phone gallery. I graduate in a semester and still haven’t been where I want to be.
• When I was little I used to want to draw in sidewalk concrete before it dried. I never did.
• For months now I’ve neglected my sketchbook, scribbling across only a couple of the pages; nothing good, nothing creative or organized, only mind-dumps that barely qualify as freewrites. Barely any doodles — all in smudged graphite. Nonetheless it’s a pleasing texture.
• I overslept each day of this weekend and have had a mild yet odd headache. Last semester was my best in a while, and though I haven’t quite maintained the high, this semester’s been pretty good, too.
• But even though I overslept I still managed to see the sky just as the clouds took on a hint of blue or purple, right before the sun set, at the very edge of the horizon, before fading back to gray. The pictures weren’t enough. But I also caught the moon the day before.
• I try to remind myself to show more appreciation for what and who I’ve been given, before we no longer see each other. The moon rose past the frame of my window before I could catch it again.
• There are other parts of the school that I want to see before I leave, and I updated my uploads to Facebook recently, re-memorializing what I wanted to further remember. Memory’s an inconstant thing, and we can assign someone to take over our account once we’re gone. Most of the time I want to stay on the sidewalk.
• If nothing else, the feel of the paper beneath my fingers and the pencil in my hand is comforting. Pages are turning.
• OverDrive will automatically return the book in 13 days if I don’t do it by then.

— Lora