Back in the saddle, figuratively speaking.

I'm not sure if anyone kept up with this blog. If I had been a blog searcher, I probably wouldn't have picked this one to read consistently. Especially because the entries stopped after a couple of months (for various reasons, the most important of which being that once the news picked up at school, I had to spend my time writing those stories instead of my own thoughts.)
Anyways,
New Year.
New Schedule (ugh).
New Blog.

Hearing train whistles when I wake up in the middle of the night makes me feel sorrowful. I think this is related to my fourth grade experience with a Mary Downing Hahn book called "A Time for Andrew." I went through this weird morbid phase where I only wanted to read her books, which are scary. Very uncharacteristic of me. I don't actively remember what the train had to do with "A Time for Andrew," but apparently my subconscious does.