I was forced to write last night. I’m taking my junior writing class and the instructor was late. He left a note that told us to write about an event…to write from the first person. He wants to know how we write, what our style is.

I couldn’t shut up. I wrote 3 pages by the time he showed up. Others in the class were done and talking and I was still writing.

It was like something came alive in me. I wanted to use inventive words, colorful phrases, make him feel and see what I was feeling and seeing. I wanted him to share the experience with me. I didn’t even know him yet and I wanted this to happen.

I feel alive being back at the university. I feel like I’m a part of a bigger thing. I feel like I’m taking care of myself. I feel rejuvenated.

It’s weird, though. I recognize the halls that I’ve walked but I’ve forgotten where everything is. I found two men’s restrooms last night but not one women’s. I had to wait 3 hours until I got home to go to the bathroom because I was too shy to ask.

I’m scouting it out next week, though. I will know where the restroom is even if I have to go up and down every hall.