Tuesday, May 15, 2012

And the entire campus takes a breath.

As I said in my Facebook status: "Made it through another Move-Out. Successfully recycled from all residence halls and appeased the Housing Powers That Be. My God. College kids get rid of a lot of stuff. "

I'm becoming used to the rhythm of the university year.  January to December doesn't mean much any more- my year is August to December, January to May, May to August.  (With a little of December to January thrown in for good measure.)

"Next year" doesn't mean 2013, it means August.  Or perhaps July if I'm going by the University's fiscal calendar.  "Spring" is usually a new beginning, but in my world, it's the end of a phase.  I'm losing 5 students to graduation (how dare they grow up and leave?).  We cleaned out the dorms, and will spend the summer luxuriating in their emptiness.  Summer means dormancy, time to step back, to take a breath, to both recover and prepare.  The traditional time of harvest is my time to plant new seeds, if you can call reminders to recycle "seeds."  I'll have a whole new crop of freshmen to educate come fall.

So my year is over, time for the champagne and the balloons, the songs of memory and of hope.  Happy New Year!

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