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Four Years at the Mount

Freshman year

24 Hours at the Mount

Kyle Ott
Class of 2014


The sound from my alarm clock always seems to fill me with a strange mix of dread and excitement. Dread: because thereís a part of me that just doesnít feel like getting out of bed before noon, and excitement because that means that I have a brand new day ahead of me in the college that I love. I start roll out of bed, a challenge made all the more difficult by the fact that itís lofted high above the actual dorm floor. In those beginning moments where my mind takes a minute to transition from the world of sleep into the waking world, I take a second to look out the window at the quad and the steadily rising morning sun. I start every morning after the alarm clock tolls by looking out of the window and taking in whatís happening outside. Sometimes Iím greeted by a blast of cool air, the sight of driving rain, or thick fog. Today, however, Iím pleased to see, is a sunny one. After a brief shower and the short amount of time it takes me to gather my belongings, Iím out the door and off to my destination.

Few people stir about in the early hours, save for the occasional student heading to their work study job or an early class. Some are like me, heading to get something to eat. Itís the solitude that suits me. I breathe in the quiet, calm walk across the campus where for five minutes I donít have to say, do, or be anything particular. In that small span of time I get to simply exist in peace. As I walk through the doors of patriot words from the famous online cooking show: Epic Mealtime come to mind. "Oh so you want to change the game? Well how you do that? You gotta stay ahead of it. And how you do that? You eat a well balanced breakfast." These words ring throughout my groggy, exhaustion choked mind as I make my way into Patriot.

Thereís something about breakfast that wakes me up, its not necessarily the food that does it, although it is nice to having something warm and healthy in my stomach, (and honestly what could be healthier then bacon, or chocolate chip waffles with syrup, or both if Iím feeling particularly charitable to my arteries). No, for me itís the mindset that comes with breakfast. The concept that Iím really starting my morning off on the most positive note imaginable with breakfast, and that all those TV commercials with talking tigers, and crazy coocoo birds might not have been wrong.

Itís a potent mix of a positive attitude, outstanding food, and above all else, some awesome fellowship. For me, it all starts with a hug. I saunter up to the desert bar and look at Bessie, who has to be one of the sweetest ladies in the entire earth.

"What can I do for you honey?" she asks in the same kind tone that sheís had since I came to this school.

"Your finest scone Bessie!" I below as I stretch my arms wide in an attempt to shake off the Monday morning blues.

"Here you go hon" She laughs as she gives me a big hug and then hands me a plate what has to be a phenomenal scone.

Thatís the attitude I begin my mornings with and it always gets me ready to appreciate a wonderful day. After the ritual hug and scone, the spirit of fellowship takes another form as I meet up with my breakfast buddies. It seems during the morning you can always find me and my friends Jenna and Alex at a table in patriot.

I look at Jenna and give her a sarcastic grin

"FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD" I half sing half moo, as I hold up the scone.

Its become a sort of running joke between the three of us that almost any time during a meal with Jenna someone says "FOOOOOOOOD", poking fun at her favorite statement when she gets hungry and likes to move us quickly along to patriot.

She laughs briefly then stops: pretending to be offended

"Oh shut up!" she says, trying hard (and failing) to restrain another laugh, as she slaps me on the back.

I canít help but chuckle to myself. Every morning like clockwork this happens, as predictable as the sun rising every morning.

From across the table I hear a quiet "Oh, jeez" from my friend Alex.

I look across to find her shaking her head at Jenna and I, who to be perfectly honest are enjoying acting like two year olds. She keeps shaking her head at us as she grabs the waffle on here plate, breaks off a tiny chunk and pops it into her mouth. Alex is more than a little more mature than us on these mornings. Sheís like the big sister that I never had but always thought it would be cool to hang with, and though she eats her waffle like she doesnít know us, sheís just as amused by our antics, as well as the predictability of our morning ritual in the ever changing sea of college.

After breakfast, the group parts ways and heads to the next class. For me, its poetry with the illustrious sister Anne Higgins, who stands in the center of our class, guiding discussions like a lighthouse. From our room in the bottom of the AC, to the auditorium in Delaplaine, and the polished halls of the seminary, students everywhere are enjoying the best that every teacher has to offer. A beautiful sunrise, a full belly, good friends, and great poetry-all just another morning here at Mount St. Maryís. As I smile into my notebook I can only wonder what kinds of adventures lunch time will bring...

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