The last two days have brought a fall feeling to Menomonie. The air is crisp and cool. The wind blows, rustling the fallen leaves across the sidewalks and you shiver as the breeze wraps around you. While the trees have not fully changed, they have begun their transformation from green giants to bare bodies dotting the horizon. The articulation of green soy beans to green alfalfa has been broken by the transformation of the beans into golden beauties. The yellow leaves radiate the warmth of the sun as it shines down upon the farm fields waiting for harvest. The sun's rays beckon me like a siren calling to a sailor, but I am forced to resist the urge to run into the light as I am chained to my homework for the evening. The broken front door of the farm house stands like a gate keeper from heaven and hell, locking me inside this dreaded house.
Inside it is a warm 60 degrees. The wood stove has yet to arrive so the furnace kicks on once in a great while to keep the house around 60. I sit in my jeans, two pairs of socks, tank top, t-shirt, and hoody. My body is still chilled so I wrap myself in a fleece blanket. With hot tea next to the computer, I have finally reached a temperature that allows me to think of things other than how cold I am inside my own house. It's 6 pm and soon the sun will sink under the horizon and darkness will rule the night.
My head hurts. Not your normal dull, annoying hurt, but a forceful pounding that rolls from the back of the head to the front. My eyes feel as though they will explode at any moment and I'm tired. In an effort to forget about the pounding I joined J.R. and Brutus wrestling by his computer. For a moment there is laughter and enjoyment while we play with the puppy. Then the back of J.R.'s head makes contact with my check bone. For a moment I am calm. Then before I can realize what is going on, a jolt of pain rushes through my head, into my eyes, and tears begin to run down my cheeks. J.R. is left speechless. Apologizing over and over saying he didn't hit me that hard. I try to explain to him that he didn't hit me hard and that I'm fine but he doesn't understand. He can't understand how the migraine has taken over and how a simple tap on the cheek can cause so much pain to an aching mind.
And so I sit, tears still rolling down my face and the headache worsens. The Excedrin migraine has done little to nothing to ease the pain and I am coming to the realization that I'm going to have to suck it up to make it through my homework. Thirty pages of tough reading with questions to answer, a summary to write on Hmong culture, and a report on the 4/5's rule, all due tomorrow. I wish I could blame myself, call myself an idiot for procrastinating. However, that's not the case. All of the assignments were handed out on Tuesday and are due tomorrow. Wicked, cruel teachers.
There is so much to write and discuss, but the homework load has been sucking up all of my time. I try to work ahead yet seem to be stuck always digging my way out in the last moment. Such is the life of a student. One can only hope that the migraine weakens, the fingers type quickly, and that the thoughts continue to flow freely from an unblocked mind. Maybe then the front door will stop blocking me from the beauty of a fall day.