foolish behaviour

I am not above foolish behaviour. There's something about me that's important. I like to think I'm above it, to an extent, but really when all is said and done, I'm right there alongside fellow revellers, behaving foolishly.

The weekend wasn't a complete waste, though. On Friday night, I saw a movie and ate calamari and sipped a martini with Eric. It's nice to go on dates. I like that I have someone who will take me out on dates. He wore his tailored jacket and looked handsome. I had my hair in two braids like a little girl. On Saturday, I went riding around in tall grasses with three of my best friends. Eric took pictures while the three of us gazed off into the distance or looked at each other, laughing, portraying carefree friendship on the Alberta plains. We galloped up the hill overlooking the barn and I felt that familiar, exhilerating happiness that I get when the wind is in my face and I feel completely free. Then I had Thanksgiving dinner with my family at my sister's house. Our family is expanding to include babies and toddlers and significant others. It feels good to sit around a big table, drinking wine and listening to the bustle of a ten-person conversation. Then, at night, said foolish behavior ensued.

I've spent all day today doing homework. I don't have any more academic-sounding words left in me. They're all spent on essays and case studies. I don't have any more room in my brain left for prioritizing assignments and thinking about mid-terms.

I'm going to go make some phone calls to the people in my life that I'm worried about, and when I've been assured that they are okay, I will go to bed.