sublingua | |||||
The heart with a mind of its own.(Be present.) | The mind with a heart of its own.(It's past.) | The dream that is your waking life.(Go there now.) | |||
No chemistry between us.
The days are just packed, aren't they? The dust has finally settled around my schedule, and I find myself, bleary-eyed and coffee-deprived, at an organic chemistry lecture three times a week at nine in the morning. This is followed by a torturous microbiology lecture, then, once a week, a torturous microbiology lab. Tuesday afternoons are taken up by an ethics class (which I ditched the first day--and lied to the instructor about the reason why I was absent). Monday and Friday afternoons are devoted to a molecular methods lab. Uh. I think there's something else going on in there, but nothing is coming to mind... I'm a little bit fried, but not justifiably so, as I haven't done a lick of studying. I haven't cracked a book yet--a week and a half into the semester. I ran into a woman from last semester's o-chem class. She is one of those people who is so naturally nice that you can afford to overlook the Christian nice that she is infused with. God, I can't go on with this. I'm tired.
More lies:
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