I want to go home.
It's not that finals are getting to me. It's not that there's snow everywhere here and I can't feel my toes in my boots. Or the fact that I can't feel my toes in my wool socks either. It's not the end of the year creeping up on us. It's not my fingers covered in everything that isn't gold paint and I desperately want gold paint. It's not that I've been reading too much A. A. Milne. Or the "Little Women." It's not the tea. It's not even that this is the holiday season, literally.
I just want to go home.
The end of this week can't come soon enough.
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