I’ve made it to the end of April, and it still hasn’t hit me yet that in a few weeks, I’ll be a junior in college, and two months later, I’ll be twenty. The (relative) enormity of that hit me a few days ago, and I think my only recourse is to regress into my nine-year-old state, where all I did was kick boys in the shins and play with Lego ponies. Which is, more or less, what I do now, I guess. But twenty? Now I don’t think they’ll let me get Subway’s Kid’s Meals without giving me creepy looks and putting a big picture of my face behind the counter.

All I wanted was the toy. And the cookie. And the juice box. Sigh.

I haven’t done a lot of work with the novel. I know, I’ve had months and months to work on it, but some days, I clamber onto my bed and I’m just asleep within five minutes of coming back from class. Mostly because I got into a habit of sleeping around 3 or 4 AM, and waking up at 8, or as it happens, 8:40 AM for a 9 AM class. It’s hard to break a pattern of sleeping badly or being unproductive. It’s even worse when your creativity fluctuates. I spent the last week doing “art” (I call them fancy doodles — best of both worlds), and not writing. Now, I think the good times are coming back.

There is one bright spot, though: I entered a writing contest a few weeks back, and I had to print out a twenty-page segment of my novel to turn in. I ended up with two copies of each work, and on the way back, I started reading through them. I couldn’t believe how different everything sounded, felt, seemed just because I was holding it in my hand, not staring at it on a screen. I felt captivated, which is the first great sign I’ve had in a long time. Probably since NaNoWriMo. Then it started to rain, and I had to put them away, but those ten minutes? Bliss. I guess it just goes to show you. Even a laser printer can change your life for the better.

Here’s to three more weeks of spring, and then the scalding-hot peace of mind to follow.