It’s been a long day of class. Wednesdays are always long. Mensuration lab at eight ten, ending at noon. An hour to get my head straight, which is never enough. Then, a four hour logging lab. All done at five, and the rest of the day might or might not be mine, depending on what’s going on.
I slept badly last night. I woke up at least five times that I can remember. Probably more. The last two, I could hear the rain coming down hard. The wind was tugging already weakened leaves from the branches. The abscission layer, my sleep-fogged mind provided at the time. That’s what the leaf falls from. I rolled over for that last precious thirty minutes of sleep I might or might not get.
I woke up ten minutes later, this time for good. It’s not worth it tossing and turning, when I could be using the time for something better. Like…well, damn. I don’t have anything better than sleeping to do. There’s time for a shower, at least. The water’s all cold. Ice-cold.
Fine. I head out, walking toward the Thompson school, my own little slice of this campus. Granted, my rain gear is at home, and it’s pouring cats and dogs. My hair is plastered to my face within a couple of minutes. Damn, I need to get a hair cut. My beard is dripping into my shirt, too. Ah, well. It’s cold rain, too.
Class was boring, as usual. Boring and cold. The hour long break was little enough to warm up. Tried to take a shower again. The water’s lukewarm at best. The hell with it. The day’s half-over, and I’ll  probably just sweat myself up again, during logging. If I’m going to get a shower, I want it hot on a day like today.
Surprisingly, by the time logging lets out, the day is now merely overcast. I decided to walk back to the dorm, seeing as how I can’t get much colder, and walking in the autumn weather is something I normally enjoy.
I come to the crest of one of the hills. There are very few pedestrians sharing the road with me today. Most have sensibly taken to the shuttles. For the most part, I’m alone. A cool breeze picks up, bringing with it the smell of rotting leaves and woodsmoke. I’m suddenly reminded why I love autumn so much. And then I start to trot with the beginning flickers of good spirit.
It’s nice. I can actually maintain a decent speed without feeling that too-familiar feeling of my heart clutching up like a fist. One of the many benefits of a poor diet and a larger workload, I guess. And now, I want to run. Just running seems like a good plan, so I start. And I’m surprised.
The pent up stress of life lately, the hurt feelings, anger, frustration, loneliness, resentment, it all comes to the fore of my mind. I speed up, going pell-mell down the wooded lane. When did I hit the woods? I must have really been running on auto-pilot those last few minutes. The woods are therapeutic to me, despite having been in them all afternoon and hating it. The sound of my sneakers slapping on the wet ground creates a comfortable rhythm. And I find myself calming down.
With each step, I feel better. Like the act of stomping onto the asphalt is grinding one of my problems into the ground.
Boom. What the hell did I get on the quiz!?
Boom. I could really use your help!
Boom. I’ve got to go home this weekend.
Boom. What do you think about this?
Boom. What are your plans for next year?
                Boom. No hot water for the shower!
                Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.
                And before I know it, I’m overlooking the last hill that will lead me to my comfortable little home away from home, Englehardt Hall. I’m panting, winded, and sweating like a pig, but I feel better. I guess maybe that lukewarm shower sounds like a good idea about now.