O Laptop! My Laptop!

O Laptop! My Laptop! our fearful trip is done;

The ship has weather'd every rack; the prize we sought is won;

The school is near, the bells I hear, the students all exulting,

While follow eyes the campus map, the textbooks grim and daring:

But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Laptop lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

My Laptop does not answer, its lips are pale and still;

My motherboard does not feel my arm, it has no pulse nor will;

Yet I am anchor'd safe and sound; my voyage closed and done;

From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;

Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Laptop lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

Thank you to Walt Whitman for providing the basis for the above verse. Since I started in verse, I figured I might as well finish in verse. Although they say these misfortunes come in threes, so there may be one chapter left to go. I'm crossing my fingers that all has passed, however. I have paid tuition, paid rent, bought textbooks, bought a parking permit, bought groceries, replaced my windshield, will soon be replacing the motherboard of my laptop..

My first class was a good one. As suspected, I think I am the oldest one in the group, but we seem to be a bright-eyed and motivated bunch. Many of the grad/equivalency students will be in a few more of my classes tomorrow, so I'll begin to get a better read on their characters. The biggest struggle thus far is figuring out the e-learning portal that all professors seem to rely heavily on. THANKS to Kevin for providing me with a loaner laptop while my computer lies fallen cold and dead in his office. I would literally be lost without it.

The other biggest struggle was a physical one, and occurred when I decided to go off in search of a field of goldenrod. I had it in my head that a lively bouquet would be just the thing to bring fresh, growing energy to my new apartment. The chosen field was literally swarming with grasshoppers, who didn't seem able to distinguish between the field and my body, but were stirred up into a frenzy by my approaching footsteps. I persevered toward my object, despite the thousands of little bodies that seemed to be dive-bombing my trunk and limbs. I pulled my sweater tight around me (it was 50 degrees today) to keep them from touching my neck or face, and I practically ran to the goldenrod, karate-chopped a few choice stalks, and high-tailed it back to the car. Not as peaceful nor contemplative as I had imagined, but worth it for my sweet little bouquets.

Onward and upward (I hope).