As it is, I can barely bear to write a post about it, much less go through with getting on the train in eight hours.
I don't like trains. People attempt to sit next to me, I always forget to bring a blanket, and by the time I get off in Chicago, I look horrid and greasy. Seriously, my hair ends up rivaling Severus Snape's.
And despite all of that, I know that there is no way for me to get out of this. I have to survive the next seven weeks in Illinois before I can come home. Before I can get engaged. Before I can be happy once more.
I can't stay in this self-pitying state for too much longer. I'll allow myself the train ride to pout and sulk, but then it'll be done. I promise to make the best of it.
There are glorious things happening between the many assignments I have to do, anyway.
Red Glove, City of Fallen Angels, and Last Little Blue Envelope come out while I'm in Illinois.
It's sunny out, so I should be able to go down to Naperville and get a few signed books while I'm there.
Doctor Who Series 6 premieres and I might get a chance to watch it online, since the dorms probably don't have BBC America.
I'm doing a pact with Dani to study the Bible at least four hours a week.
I'll be okay.
I just have to remember that, when I'm sitting there wanting to be home.
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