on friday, loud, incessant bangs and whirrs of the never-ending projects just outside my window keep me awake as i attempt to make our 6.033 report seem comprehensible. i look outside and see the same view i’ve seen for two years: briggs field, flat and green and fine but boring. the sun is uncharacteristically bright.
missed readings and psets and reports and tests swirl in my head. they make me forget what’s outside of campus: it’s the mid-semester bubble rearing its ugly head.
i want to succumb into complacency but i have to finish these things swirling in my head so i sigh and sit down and maybe drink a calpico and finish them. i look outside and it’s dark.
i need a break. i want to leave.
on saturday, i pack enough clothes into the smallest suitcase i own, take the uber to boston logan, and join my friends. i take a plane far, far away, to a different country and a different continent and i forget everything about MIT for just one week and breathe a different kind of air. it’s almost magical.
on sunday night, i return to rainy boston, taking the silver line bus to south station, then taking the red line home. i eat gogo curry at h-mart and walk to next house, which looks so artificial and strange and different from the bustle of stephansplatz or the shops of amsterdam. but it’s fine: after two or so days, i’m used to it again, and the magic is over, and i snap out of my trance.
back to the grind, back to the bubble. but this time, it seems more bearable. things will be okay.