5:30 am and I have just decided to let the six o’clock bus go by without me. I haven’t missed a day of classes in the semester yet, so I’m due for a skip day.

The decision was made by mentally listing five reasons. 1.) My brother Jon is leaving for two months tomorrow and I would like to spend as much time around him before he does. 2.) I have a headache. 3.) I don’t have any papers due or tests to write. 4.) The weather is nasty. 5.) I have a large paper due tomorrow that still needs to be finished.

All of these excuses wouldn’t count for much if I was an obsessive student.—but I’m not. So there you have it.

Going back to bed would only prove I’m lazy and completely lame. In protest to this I’m about to go make myself a cup of tea and grab my journal. Sometime before dawn I will also start polishing up my paper.

Insert————-> I now have a whole pot of tea—jasmine green tea, which is my favorite. And a large bowel of apple crisp. This slight rebellion seems to be quite comfortable.

As long as I don’t spill tea all over myself all should be well. That happened to me yesterday morning. I was sitting at the table, soaking in the last quiet moments before clinical, when, for no apparent reason, my cup slightly tilled and a large slash of hot tea ended up on my lap. It didn’t seem fair that on the day I was good and responsible I would get burned.

So far this morning, my tea seems to be behaving rather well.

Now I shall go light my new red candle, fluff my two red pillows, and refill my mug.

From my soft bedroom chair, spoken with a cup of steaming tea in hand, I encourage you all to be irresponsible and take time to sit back and take a deep breath.