And so I hit the ground running. Or walking as quickly as possible back and forth across campus without exciting attention.

These days have seemed so long that, sitting and reflecting on them, I can't believe there have been only two of them. Today's interminability might have been determined by my early morning foray into the caf for breakfast. I'd heard that they'd be closing up shop at 8, and while I didn't think it likely, I wasn't going to chance missing my omelette and coffee. Eight am came and went without the dining room doors rolling shut, so I remained, making small talk for another hour. Oh 9 am, golden time possessing all the promise of a dawning business day. That's my main problem with journalism and trying to work it into my schedule—I can't make phone calls or appointments outside of narrow, weekday hours. I was born in 1989. In my world, everyone is available, all the time.

Back in the real world, I made those calls and then trekked down to physical plant to get an interview for the construction update brief I'm working on. I also met with the prof I'm TAing for, got some preliminary assignments, and went back to my dorm to finish them. After lunch (which is apparently another restraint on workday communication—I was chided by someone yesterday for calling at lunchtime when I tried for an interview at 11:30 am), I found myself sitting barefoot in the new Nease RD's apartment. She was nice enough to pause in the flurry of pre-NSO projects and talk for the story I'm writing about her. I then found her partner RD, who let me follow her on room inspections and get her input.

So that's what I did. I didn't really realize it until I thought it out and wrote it down. Life is so ephemeral; if I don't capture it in words, it dissipates into mere shadows of vague experience.