Interlude over, it is time for real work and forged bedtimes and knowing loneliness. This time, the last I will survive apart. More than a sprint—an entire field ready for imposition.

Again, the break has filled with social engagements and "catching up," dotted with work opportunities and the quiet nostalgia that finds dinnertime. I am using the sketchbooks I started fall semester, hoping the work I developed then can move from auto to Full Attention Manual. Click, my thoughts re-equipped to drive the break.

I cannot stop trembling and this caffeine high I've picked up doesn't seem to be helping.