I've always wanted a tree house. Now that it's actually sunny and warm, of course i'm cooped up in the library with an essay mountain and 0.00 motivation and my feet itching for my birks and the feeling of pedals underneath them. I just want to lie on a blanket by the water, passing a bottle of wine back and forth. I want to put my hair in a french braid, walk around in shorts, and occasionally step into stores only for the air conditioning. I want to sip on a cold fountain soda, gingerly place it onto a flat part of an upper branch, and climb up the wooden planks to my tree house. I want my bracelets (friendship, hemp, boondoggle, bead) shaking with each inch upward.