After a week of tweaking the hell out of the thing, I finally sent my resume off to the psych. lab at the University of Chicago. Feelings: fear, anxiety, bewilderment over who else I'm going to send this thing off to...fear again, oh and worry, lots of worry. I'll find the time to massively email all of these potential lab people some time. Who'da thought, three classes, only three classes and I'm barely keeping up.

Now you gotta realize these aren't normal courses. These aren't even normal science courses, which I've had plenty of. In college people affectionately describe introductory science classes as "weeder courses." It's a sink-or-swim situation where 30-40% of the people in there...well...sink. Sortof like academic Darwinism. Fortunately we have none of the cannibalism that the crab I'm studying exhibits. It'd be kinda cool, though, and pay-per-view would definetely get on the bandwagon. Chemists would probably become ripped 6ft linebacker types with scars and all.

So I'm researching the cannibal crab, reading about designer estrogen hormones, constantly worrying about my future, silently cursing my chem. prof. as an anti-christ precursor...all in all a pretty typical, relaxed day. Funny thing is there's noone around the library. Bloody place is like a tomb today. I think it has something to do with the fact that the suns out and it's 74 degrees outside. Maybe it's because I forgot to put on deoderant...naw.

That reminds me, I need to do my laundry again. Hygiene just sneaks up on ya, I swear.

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