Una Gota De Sangre

Woah, I can't believe I'm going back to England on Friday. It just seems too soon.

I still have people to see and so much to do, it's crazy. I'm going to be rushed like mad to get everything done in time.

I'm happy to hear that everyone's settling fine into college for the new semester, and despite not wanting to leave home, everyone seems to be looking forward to what lies ahead.

I don't know what to think about my next term. From what I've heard from older students (and even professors), this should be the most depressing eight weeks I've ever had. England during the winter is bitingly cold and constantly dreary. Combine that with the usual stress from working at Oxford, and it's not pretty. From what I've heard, all of the student counselors are going to be running around, always asking, "Are you all right? Do you need to talk? Have you been sleeping well? Are you sure you're all right?"

I'm not generally prone to depression, but I know how crippling it can be. We'll just have to see how it goes.

My mom is completely against me rowing this term. Of course, the email I got from our boat club president didn't help. We have to wear several layers while out on the water, and she sent us all a link to information on cold water survival. Apparently, there's this thing called "dry drowning"; when you hit the water, it's so cold that your whole body spasms and your airways actually close up. No water can get into your lungs, but then again, air can't either. No joke, guys. It's beyond freezing out there. Combine with that the fact that I'm Floridian, and the fact that I'm still on my second round of antibiotics, and my mom is worried sick at the very thought of me out there.

I really don't know what to do about it. I'm still mulling it over. I'll have to make a decision soon, though. Hopefully, it'll be the right one.