No stories published this morning's edition, but I learned that "of the 10 poorest nations in the world, Malawi is the least rich." Information is power; I intend to be God with that sentence someday given the right temperature, weather and set of circumstances.
There are 6 more working days at the newspaper. I sent in the final ethics case study half an hour ago. There are 11 more days before I pack my trunk and stack my books along the back seat. There is no nostalgia yet. I think I would have had to be here longer. There is only a need for the internship to be done, being, now, so close to the end. Blink an eye.
Home is a nice sound. Home in Portland, home in Eugene, wherever there is a sewing machine and a bicycle and a feeling of staying still. Last term and over these three months, I've lost that feeling of two feet under me connected to knees and hips and face going skyward against gravity all of which pulls me to a particular place where the groceries fit in the cupboard and my dust lays on the floor--not someone else's dust unless someone else is a person who belongs here in the house with me, comrade at arms, etc. I can hardly wait to swing ZF southwards to cut my hair and pay tuition.
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