Stray Thoughts

I should be writing a response for my class tomorrow right now. I should be interacting with readings on how the University has forced students to appropriate an unfamiliar language and discussed their failure to do so in quantitatively diagnostic terms. Instead I'm listening to the Eagles and Ingrid Michaelson and thinking about how a lady's umbrella yesterday flicked up neatly and gracefully, like an extension of her arm as she stepped off the bus and into the torrential downpour.