Terrible weather and the absence of an old friend

Has anyone else out there noticed that the weather has been just plain terrible every day we have had class? It’s kind of like God looked down on Huntsville and decreed, “All Sam Houston State University students will be forced to suffer through cold, drizzle-filled days as penitence for all those nights they were out having fun and not re-typing their chemistry notes.” Case in point– every school day last week was barely tolerable. All I wanted to do was skip class, go home, put on my pajamas and crawl into bed with my remote and a bag of Chips Ahoy. This type of behavior is to be expected of course, but later on in the semester around April or so, not the first week. The real killer is that most of the weekend was beautiful. The sun was shining, trees were blowing in the wind and I couldn’t wait to put away my big clunky winter boots in exchange for my favorite pair of flip-flops. But sure enough, when Tuesday rolled back around and the alarm went off at 7 a.m., the weather was back to being crap and I had to file my flip flop dreams back in the folder known as May.Hopefully, around March or so I reckon that God will take pity on us and restore sunshiny days to the campus of SHSU, and I for one can’t wait. But, the weather isn’t the only reason the semester has gotten off to a rotten start for me. I miss an old friend. She’s been around ever since I started school here and now she’s gone because someone said she was a little too old. I am referring to the Lowman Student Center. Oh how I miss it. I never really appreciated it until that first day of class last week when I saw the big chain fence. I find it hard to believe how much time I actually spent there during the course of an average day. Now that is has been closed for renovations, I find myself lost. Most of us have it– that free time during the day that just isn’t long enough to go home and is too long to get started on anything big, like researching that 45 page paper on the migrating patterns of prairie dogs you have to write for biology. It’s usually just an hour or so while you wait to go to class or 25 minutes when you’re fitness for living teacher lets you out early. I’m no stranger to these breaks. In the past four and half years I have been in college I always seem to be stuck with at least one or two of these a day. That’s when I needed the LSC most. Before I knew I could just walk over the LSC, find a comfy green couch of my very own and take a nap or read. Now, as I sit in class and wait for the approaching hour of free time, I wrack my brain for ideas of places to go and things to do. I feel almost like Goldilocks, not because of my inquisitive nature and fabulous blond hair, but because I just can’t find a place that fits me right. I tried reading in the library but its just too quiet. I need a little noise. I tried hanging out in the computer center during one of my hour breaks to test the question, “How long can one really play internet solitaire before they go insane and start throwing highlighters?” The answer to that question is about 30 minutes. I guess I’m just having a hard time finding my niche in this new LSC-free world. I miss my mid-day naps. I miss watching the news and soap operas in the Paw Print at noon. I miss seeing all my pals as they pass by my green couch and I miss playing Area 51 in the video arcade. I know when spring comes, and the curse is has been lifted from the SHSU campus I’ll feel a little better. The sprawling trees that dot the grounds will call out to me and I’ll happily spend my free time under them, but until then, I will bear the loss of the LSC nobly. I’ll find a new place on campus to duck into during those long lonely breaks, I’ll start visiting the new Paw Print that has been set up in Kirkley and I’ll petition my parents to buy me my own arcade version of Area 51, complete with red and blue guns. I know that the LSC will be better then ever when the renovations are complete and SHSU students will once again fall in love with the place and all it has to offer. But until then, I just can’t help but wonder, what do you suppose they did with all those stuffed birds on the third floor?

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