back in the salad again

Have you ever been singing a song in your head while you're thinking about, writing, talking about, watching, or doing something else, and you realize you're singing the wrong words? Today as I searched for my Microeconomics class in Reasoner 319 (you'd think after a year and a half I'd know which building is which) I sang "Back in the Saddle Again" in my head, only I realized, since I wasn't really paying attention, I was singing, "Back in the salad again." I've never been in the salad, but I think I'd rather be there than in the saddle.

Coming to college reminds me of going off to war, only I can't shoot myself in the foot to be taken off the front-line. "First day of classes" carries the same ring to it as "England declared war on Germany." Papers, books, and tests all mean the same to me as tanks, grenades, and rifles. I think it's funny how I always bring back books from home to school with me, thinking I'll have time to read them. And they always sit on my shelf, with a thin layer of dust on their tops by the time I pack them up to take back home with me. I wonder if, when I signed that "I will not drink, smoke, curse, or dance" contract at the beginning of my college career, the words "or have a life" were at the bottom of the page.

I shouldn't be so pessimistic and depressed. After all, there are so many people who have it worse than I - cross-cultural students who can't go home all year, students who can only go home once a year, and students who can't even come to college. What a privilege, honor, and blessing it is for me to be sitting in these classes and my chapel seat. I'll try to see it that way from now on.

Meanwhile football season is practically over...and...I wonder how many times I've mentioned "football" and "war" in the past few entries. I'll make an effort to mention more things about happiness in the future.