Finally, April has ended. It was one long month.
Now, one could feel the end of the semester. We’re done with most of the committee works and the events have long passed. The building’s a ghost town. Only the echoes of doors closing/opening can be heard from the halls that’s usually filled with the persistent footsteps and loud conversations of students. From inside the office, the steady hum of the air conditioning offers the peace we’ve been looking forward to. Well, there’s the occasional glitch with the air conditioning. It occasionally mimics the sound of an airplane taking off. But that’s a minor setback. I’m enjoying the peace we’re having today.
The semester is really over!
There’s that great relief and then it dawned on me. That’s another semester without any real progress on my thesis. Worry and dread replaced relief. “Well that was quite a short one,” I thought. Why did my thoughts have to go into the thesis matter? There I was enjoying the moment.
Instead on wallowing in dread, I thought I should get a massage – a reward for the semester that passed (as a teacher and adviser, at least. Forget about me being the graduate student). My shoulders and this back have been… it’s been killing me. That’s quite expected. After a whole afternoon’s consideration, I finally started for the salon. I could feel the start of te flu. I’m becoming more conscious of the muscle and joint pains. I’m blaming this weather. Extreme heat and heavy rains. Or perhaps it’s just aging.
It did feel better after the massage. Still, there’s that flu. Spicy beef noodles soup’s what I needed. Spent nearly an hour enjoying the soup. It’s best for the flu. I did feel better for some time.
During the walk home, I knew I wasn’t any better. I came home early and headed straight to bed. There came that burning from within the brain. I could really sleep because of such complicated story plots in half-dreams. By 9pm, I knew I was really sick. I was surprised to note that it’s been less than three hours. It felt like it was a new day already. I knew this fever from last summer’s chicken pox. “Not another strain please”, I prayed. I don’t know how I’ll survive another two weeks of solitary confinement.
This is such a great way to end April. Imagine if I were to have another strain of the pox. Some luck I’d have if that were the case. It was going to be a long night. I’d be lucky if I managed some sleep. I’m not counting on that though.