There was a mighty 4 hour battle fought today: Section 2 v. C-T. And in my case, the opposition dominated.
Call it a cop-out. Call it a slow, agonizing death. Call it whatever you want, but until you suffer through a double dose of Property, you have no idea. I left an hour early.
There I am, plunking along through hour 3, dealing with one of those sit-down-and-shut-up headaches, beyond even trying to concentrate on C-T because if I take my mind off of the incessant throbbing behind my eyelids for more than 1 second I could just about guarantee that the Mr. Good Bar I made the mistake of eating would come launching up and land it's gross self all over M.'s pretty computer.
So I came home. And now my only consolation, one I'm sure I'll keep happening upon throughout my impending career, is that if the situation becomes any more dire, I've got a nice glass of water (choose your poison) and a friendly dose of Vicodin calling my name.
And a great boyfriend.
This is for you, L. It's finally a real blog.
April 25, 2007
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Ahhhh vicodin....i think i have some of that at elisa's place. I need to get her to let me have a couple after all this is over...would that be recreational drug use or count as taking away the mental agony of finals?
nothing makes me happier than a shout out on a blog. :) and im super glad mr. goodbar stayed put, because let's face it, my hair would have gotten a pretty heave dose.
ick.
Post a Comment