House of Mirth--Not Wharton's, Mine

Despite the gloom of this foggy day, I feel mirth gurgling inside, and it keeps spilling over at the oddest moments.

I laugh when I learn I forgot a supervisor's meeting in the writing center--I was the one who sent out the reminder email yesterday!

I laugh when I realize I don't have a clue about trigonometry--it's the first "new" information I've encountered in my math class.

I laugh at the professor's delight at seeing me show up to observe in a class on a day when his students are peer-reviewing each other's annotated bibliographies--how nice it is to feel useful and be appreciated.

I laugh when I get to my French professor's office and my application essay I wanted her to review is nowhere to be found in my online file and when the only items in her inbox are two "new" messages from last year--who knows where we would be without computers?

I laugh when three quarters of the cake Mrs. B. baked for one of my co-workers is consumed before the birthday boy arrives for his shift--Happy birthday, Zak! The cake was great and I hope you get some.

I laugh when the Greek test reveals how little I really know about the language--for all the study and review, my mind is a tubula rasa--oh, wait, that's Latin, isn't it?

I laugh when I, a student of language, literature, and writing, find words inadequate to convey meaning--if I can't write something meaningful, where does that leave the rest humanity?

I laugh, when for all the reasons in the world, and for the weather, too, I should be gloomy--tears have their place, but not for me, and not today.