Not quite a wheel...

The itch sneaks up on me here and there when I least expect it. Crossing the street, trying not to slip on the slick crosswalk-paint, crunching iced snow underfoot, fighting with hordes of student emails, falling asleep under blue sky and sun and waking to thick obscurity, shaking feverishly, typing frantically. I miss writing here but I can never seem to find the time, especially these last few weeks. But the itch has moved into physical expression today, popping up unexpectedly in the back of my throat during my Homer final. Very annoying. The urge to cough, that little tickle, with no seeming cause or impetus just appeared, forced its sensation upon me. I suppose it's probably the start of a post-cold-post-nasal-drip (why can't sickness ever end?) which can only be cured through lots of honey and will-power. Funny that when the physical itch presents itself, the mental one gets scratched.

Warning: Finals are causing great pain. Then lots of trips=sketchy internet. Can I go on winter break too?