It’s a quiet afternoon. 10% of my MBA journey has ended.
I open a fortune cookie. “A man without aim is like a clock without hands, as useless if it turns as if it stands.”
It’s a peaceful moment at Caulkins courtyard. The clock stands there. Ticking. I fear my life will be ticked away like this.
A cheerful squirrel jumped by. A bird making weird sound (probably gotta move south soon). Leafs are falling whenever the wind calls.
Time to stand up, but my legs are numb. Well, might as well.