December.

December arrived with its traditional fury. November’s mild evenings and chilled nights slipped into chaos. Beautiful chaos, but chaos nonetheless. The snow blanketed everything, and my bike is only moderately helpful for getting to class on time. At least twice before the end of the semester, count on seeing me tangled up in my stylish 4-speed Cruizer along the icy sidewalks. If you see me coming, your best bet is to bob and weave (though a simple stop-drop-and-roll should probably suffice).
Of course, the true fury of December lies not in the cold, the snow and the travel; rather, it lies somewhere between Dr. Brown’s notorious final in Sentence Strategies and the remaining twenty-seven pages I have to write before next Wednesday. The twenty-four hour period between 12 a.m. and 12 a.m. somehow shortens in December. I’m not sure exactly how much time drops off the clock, but I know I’m always one spell check shy of the full twenty-four hours.
And then come the ingredients that really make this month challenging. December means Yuletide drama. For the sake of brevity, all issues regarding Christmas and its accompanying “festivities” will be lumped into one category--“Life.” People of all predicaments are lured into situations that seem perfectly…jolly. Yet "Merry" Christmas rarely translates into holiday cheer for all. I dont mean to spoil Christmas; I like Christmas, but December can be rough.
But this year, I say, “December, Do your worst.” Snow. Ice. Dramaterize.
The way I figure, December provides the next big lessons for a life in pursuit of God. Welcome to December. I intend to stay.