Towards the end of my week-long Apologetics class, I started feeling like a cave salamander. I wondered if my professor caught a glimpse of hollow, glassy eyes when he scanned the room. The coffee had propped me in my chair, and upstairs, the gears turned with whispery efficiency. But my too-relaxed frame revealed a listlessness that would have been noted by the careful observer—the torpor of a body that has spent too much time indoors.
As I listened to the excellent lectures, and enjoyed them thoroughly, I felt another sensation rising inside of me. Small at first. Then bigger. A frighteningly strong urge to run across a sunlit field, screaming. Or at the very least, to escape the confines of the classroom—to jump out a window, or slip away through a heating vent.
I mentioned this impulse to some of my classmates, and they responded with puzzled chuckles. Was it conceivable that they didn’t feel it too?
Maybe my skin was overly sensitive to fluorescent light. Or maybe my body had an abnormally low indolence threshold. Then again, maybe some of my classmates were overfed sofa spuds.
Whatever the case, this weekend will be the scene of some vigorous outdoor living.
Friday, January 13, 2006
Psychosomatic Student
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6 comments:
This sounds a bit like a rewriting of Plato's Allegory of the Cave.
Just be careful how you approach your classmates upon your return . . .
I'm glad the class was intellectually enervating, but I'm also glad for you that it's over.
Run along and scream in that field, now.
This sounds really familiar. Oh sure, the lectures on literary theory or modernity in scandinavian literature are great, but still I sometimes feel like I could jump out the window on the fifth floor and fly away into the sunshine.
But so far I haven't.
Hope you had fun. I was intending to comment about the KU defeat at home, but then MIZZOU lost to the Buffaloes in Columbia. During the game, my six year old Andreas asked me the following:
"Does 'KU' mean Kansas, Dad?"
Me: "Yes"
Andreas: "We don't like Kansas, do we?"
Me: "I love you, son."
Just wait till you can paint AJ, Jr. blue and tell him/her about all the evil that exists in Norm Stewart land.
Cheers.
You are loved, by me. Welcome to heaven.
rob
Fields have been encountered and sprinted through, yelling. (I'm now inserting the more accurate, masculine verbal in place of the more dramatic, feminine, "screaming.") Rugby isn't basketball, but it does have amazing restorative potential.
R. Sherman, I had a feeling I might be hearing from you. I watched the second half of the MU game, and was pleasantly surprised by the outcome. Now we'll have not one, but two really ticked off teams playing each other tonight. Long live the feud.
I'm still trying to figure out whether sinisterbaby is an MU diehard or an ex-student. Choosing to believe the best, I'm sticking sinister in the ex-student category. But this should be a lesson to us all - failure to identify context could have an impugning effect on one's character.
Man, I've had that feeling every single day of my life since the glory days of recess ended. I thought I was the only one... ;)
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