[6 am.]

I curled up tighter in my sleeping bag as I felt the cold seep through the ground to my already freezing toes. Emily was yelling in the background for us to get up--my body was yelling inside for her to shut up.

Instead I peeked over the edge of my sleeping bag to see Meg and Laura.. And we hopped along the damp sidewalk like soggy cocoons.

We got to the entrance of the gym, then were shortly herded outside with everyone else to take the picture.

I rode home.

I don't think of myself as any better of a person for being involved in the Global Night Commute.

I want to say so much about what happened, you know.. How we got the opportunity to write to the President of the United States, how we watched those children again, how it hurt as much as the first time we saw them, how Meg and I shared a bag of peanuts, how I felt that I might have finally found some more real friends, how good summer sausage is, and how fun it was to sleep on the church step last night.

Last night felt so clean and wonderful. I'm frustrated with those who have made it a fad, and even more so with those who won't participate because they think they are better for being non-conformist.

Don't you ever do things because you just.. care?

[responsibility.]

Yeah, I can crank out a good 1,500-word paper in about two hours.. Maybe even one. Half an hour would be decent, albeit complete bulle scheisse, and 15 minutes.. Forget it. But if I had remembered that I HAD one, my term paper could have been past excellent.

Am I too prideful?

I thought I was making some headway with my fat black planner.

But no.

Good thing Eric Gill is somewhat interesting. Tchuss.

[the first day.]

As I walked from the Caf to Mayfield, I couldn't help but notice how.. green everything is.

Finally.

I was so tired of feeling as dead and ugly as the brown grass beneath my shoes.

It's kind of pretty here in the Spring.