Goulash and Constancy

I wrote this (LONGHAND) during my math class. But I typed it up for all to enjoy. There's a beauty to where I sit in my math class. I'm in the sixth row of seven. So it doesn't look like I'm a total slacker, but the professor never has to look me in the eye. It's next to a window, so if I lean back in my chair, I look like I'm just resting or thinking, but I'm really just looking at the quad (they call it the mall here, but I'm not pretentious enough to get used to that). There are trees. Blowing a lot on this windy day. It reminds me of my undergrad institution on days like this. It was always windy there. And beautiful. And it's beautiful here on days like today. Even overcast and grey, the brick buildings and green lawn and people scurrying to do their academic errands provides me with a sense of peace. Even when I first moved here and life was so sad and strange and awkward, the quad was familiar in its bustle and the unique atmosphere of relaxation mixed with tension. Sometimes I would troop over here from the other side of the river just to see something normal to me. It's a different place and the buildings are different, even the TREES are different, but it's still so common. An academic constant. I had lunch with a friend today. He made a huge pot of goulash on Sunday and has been eating it ever since. He says it's the beauty of constancy. And that's just like my seat in math class. My view changes every day - different people, different weather - but it's still the same. Like the goulash. And my seat.