Mar 2, 2007

Laundry Day!

So... I haven't left campus in about two weeks due to that looming midterms thing.

I suffered two quandaries today--three if you count the silent panic attack I had during the biochem review in which one particular instructor should have said "Essentially... what you want to do is memorize my lecture notes... yes, every word. All 700 pages of them. Excellent. Oh, but I've thrown a couple cases in from that giganto overcomplicated no-one-ever-uses it, tried reading it the first week and said "holy freaking shit" textbook, so have fun poring through it for five hours in an effort to award yourselves the three points it'll leave ya.

Oh, and on that note, as an addendum to the post where I told people that were shouting outside at four in the morning to shut the hell up (not that it matters now, since I've been studying until then), since this is not high school, they don't take attendance for lecture, certainly not for review sessions, and the truant officer isn't going to track you down, IF you are going to a review session the Friday before midterms, kindly shut the hell up.

It isn't fair, really... with the level of stress we are all under, one should not have to take the *additional* step of quenching unnaturally homicidal rage toward minor distractions and talking loudly while the instructor tells you what's going to be on the test is not "minor".

But I was talking about my other quandaries. Quandary Numero Uno. Ishie needs food. As I awoke this early afternoon (having studied until 5:30 in the morning), I thought "Hmmm... chickpeas again? While I like chickpeas, eating them like cereal seems excessive."

I also was in danger a couple days ago of having all my veggies go bad, so I tossed them into a mega salad. The funny thing here is that when you get pressed for time and the student store isn't well stocked, instead of doing the normal college thing and living off top ramen, potato chips, and canned soup, THOSE are the things that require a trip to the store. Yet, produce guy comes three times a week so my new college experience is "What to do? I have nothing to eat except lettuce, papayas, cucumbers, and christophene..."

But yeah, I was out of everything. Out of soap, out of milk, out of cheese, out of margarine, on the low side on chickpeas... more importantly, I needed to hit the stationery store to purchase a large size sketchpad so I could express my blossoming artistic side by making color coded charts of the metabolic pathways. Picasso, eat your heart out. Van Gogh, eat your ear off.

I bussed it to Spiceland Mall and was actually to secure everything I needed except for cumin, which I've been hunting down for a month. Spice island, my ass. And yes, I know they have it at the Saturday market downtown, and if I had that kind of time, I'd be at Club Med rather than Med School.

Quandary Numero Dos. As I came back from working out (I've been surprisingly good about that due to having to make appointments for the cardio machines), I stripped off my sweaty exercise clothes, looked in my giant wooden locker (first termers know what I mean) and went "Uhhh..."

So another break had to be taken from studying to put on my least corpse-y set of scrub pants and a tank top with a broken strap to drag all of my belongings down to the laundry room to either be washed or burned. Ewww. One more day and I'd have not only been wandering around in my wetsuit, but I'd have had to chase down my dirty clothes and beat them into submission with a stick, which would have taken a lot of time away from studying...

But back to it. Gluconeogenesis awaits. Sadly, Manlocks isn't touching that one.

Last night was mundo anatomy night where I caught up EVERYTHING in anatomy (what's that embryology shaped wave heading toward me? Ignore it; it'll go away). Manlocks was all OVER the place!!! He discovered that picking up the Bundle of His (leaving something of equal weight in its place for the old Indiana Jones switcharoonie) gave him an extra life so he may be ready to brave the stomach, or, since I'm doing metabolic pathways tonight, the liver. Hepatocytes ho!!!


Mom said...

Out of soap, out of soup, or out of both?

Ishie said...

Hi mom!!

Actually, out of soap, which is a more critical crisis than being out of soup, though I was out of that too, but it was less pressing.