Have I changed?

I was perusing my blog. March Suns is clinging on to me today. It is just not letting go off me. The minute I come back to my office after lessons, it is coaxing m to type something out. I am not in the 'writerly' mood now. I cannot expect to write well, when there are a million unrelated thoughts buzzing and milling in my mind. Now, I've gone and made my mind sound like a teeming bee-hive. How awful!
My staff-room is lovely. All the practicum trainees are warm and wonderful, and very helpful.
After a hard day at work, I return to what I have named Lazy-Land, aka the campus, as I am still living in my Hall of Residence.
Hall of Residence 8. What does it mean for me now? What will it mean to me many years hence? Besides being as pretty as a picture post-card, and as steep as a hill, it has many other little connections with me. There is the Games Room, where I validate my room key every week. With its enormous TV i never get to watch. There are the flights and flights of steps I have to climb up and down every day. There is the pantrY where I go, to fill my water bottle. There is my room, a shared double room, where I have wrapped up my life in one corner. There is the view from the window, of verdant trees and the parking lot. There is the fake-wood floor, which I sweep every now and then. There are the white cupboards, there is the big, roomy desk, and the most comfortable bed ever...then there are the myriad drawers, into which I have compartmentalized my life...the one with the detergent, the one with the hand-cream, the one with my books.
Why am I writing all this? To chronicle, of course. When my memory plays tricks on me as the years pass, if it ever does, the little details will not slip me by. Sometimes I wonder how the grains of time, have slipped like sand, through my fingers. I want to go to Puri. I love the atmosphere of the place.
Uh oh, there goes the bell...CLASS