Man does it feel good to sit down in a comfy chair, flip on some good music and click away on my keyboard.
Oh, wait, I do that… like, every day. Except, most of the time, not in a comfy chair.
There’s just something different about taking a step back, letting out a deep breath and mindlessly putting together a string of thoughts that have been building up in my cluttered mind for the past week or so.
Athens is great as always and I have been able to settle into a really great writing routine that, despite its craziness and general lack of consistency, has allowed me to churn out some stuff I’m really proud of.
One thing I’ve noticed since I’ve been back on campus this spring is that I keep seeing people who look eerily similar to friends from home.
This isn’t anything new, as from the moment I set foot on campus last fall I’ve been able to attach names to faces that obviously don’t correlate one bit.
I’ve seen the hockey team bro, the science lab partner, the dude I really never met but remember for one reason or another, the ex-girlfriend, a long-lost friend from seventh grade and a friend from work — a crazy similar friend from work.
It’s funny to just walk around Athens with my headphones in and peg students as kids from back home. Sometimes I laugh a little to myself, which might make me look like the crazy kid someone was oh-so-eager to get away from when they left for school. Oh well.
I thought I was weird to do something like this, let alone notice it in the first place. However, when I told a couple of my friends here about my pseudo-discovery, they agreed that they do the same things as well. Weird, huh?
Even more peculiar is the fact that I actually saw a couple of kids from my hometown the other day while covering an Ohio vs. Eastern Michigan baseball game in Athens. Some kids from the grade behind me were making their way to the East Coast for spring break and decided to make a pit stop to visit one of their aunts in Athens.
I did a double take to make sure that I wasn’t crazy and then decided to chase them down. But then I didn’t because I was up in the press box doing my job and they were already far enough away where it would have been weird if I would have ran up behind them.
Nonetheless, both parties got a kick out of the slightly out-of-the-blue Facebook message I sent one of them later in the day. It turned out that I wasn’t crazy after all. (Whew!)
In summary, if you’re going to draw one thing from reading this, it’s the notion that I’m not crazy. But then again, I don’t even know if I believe myself.
But I’ll take crazy over just about anything else if it means I can do what I’m doing now — on an increasingly better and more exciting level — for the rest of my life. Cheers to that.