What can I say? The times, they are a- changin’.
To think that I managed to make it through my entire first semester and still seem like a functioning individual! I was going to absolutely all my classes, no excuses. I was eating (somewhat) healthy, I was handling all my time well and had no need or cause for staying up past 12 other than watching Gilmore Girls, I was even running every single morning. I was posting on my blog more or less regularly, dammit! Where did it all go wrong?
After several drafts attempting to write a post on the new year and the #OneWord365 theme, I have decided to let go it go (cue Frozen montage) for the moment and instead talk about a far more interesting and exciting subject (to me at least) that has lately arisen in my life.
About a year and a half ago, in one of the many, many French classes I attended, I was presented with a short excerpt of a book called Du côté de chez Swann, by Marcel Proust, where the author talked about this little gateau shaped like a seashell, which he used to eat with his aunt accompanied by tea and how the very same cakes, when presented to him many years later recalled all those memories from his childhood that he had forgotten long ago.
It’s that wonderful time of the year when Christmas trees and holiday decorations go up, snow makes its first reticent appearance, and the line for the Tim Hortons at your local university campus reaches the highway.