Abandon

I itched to leave today. To get out and go - just go. I hopped in my car and drove to Staunton, to hang up posters on campus advertising the Madrigals auditions for Tuesday. As I strolled the campus, I was struck by how golden and beautiful everything looked - this was my place, this was my favorite time of year, this was my moment. And for a moment, I was satisfied with my lot. The only driving need to go at that moment was to run off to Barnes and Noble in Harrisonburg half an hour away, and I decided to go to the not-half-so-adequate substitute that is Books-a-Million to see if that would assuage my need before I wasted fuel in my car.

I went to the library first, though, and browsed around for ages to see if I could make myself save some money. I took out a couple of DVD's (The Four Seasons, directed by Alan Alda - it's excellent thus far; and Bridget Jones' Diary, because I love it) and some books (lots of Elizabeth Peters and Barbara Michaels, to relax my brain in the midst of Chaucer and the mind-boggling qualities of my Basic Math and Music Theory). Then I browsed through the travel section on a whim. I leafed through some books on Germany, to see if I could find a picture of Jena - I couldn't, but I didn't look too hard, so there could have been one I didn't notice - and then couldn't even pick up a book on England, because suddenly I missed it more than I could bear.

If I could have, I would have hopped in the car and driven up to Pennsylvania right at that moment. Without another thought, without packing, without any kind of preparation.

Instead, I hopped in the car and drove back home to Waynesboro. I didn't even bother with Books-a-Million. (I did, however, go grocery shopping. Something nice and ordinary to get me back to my senses.)