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7am at Mt. University, rat burritos and driving test tomorrow 2003-02-24 - 7:05 p.m. 
Another morning lost inside the folds of bedsheets. I went to bed at 11pm; I woke up at 5am. In-between those hours was a mocking sort of conscious sleep. Minutes jogged by like lepers. My body was taut, the mattress and the pillow too soft in their sluttish grip. There wasn't any relaxation, no release, just the tide of thought crashing in synch with the second's hand. For the last hour I was afraid to move, as if fatigue were an animal that would pounce and smother me in swamp-gas wakefulness and mensial bile.But nope, I was super! My body vomited cheery wakefulness in that "y'know, when I start needing to think I'm gonna be so fucked" kinda way. I trundled out of bed and thought about clothing myself. Ah, yes, gray on gray was different for me, far different from the black on black trend; Dr. Zivago would approve (read: not make a comment). Mom and I smushed effortlessly into tradition and shot out through the freeway. I was at Mt. University at 7am and still had an hour to spare. The last time I was 'awake' at this hour was my freshman year of college. There'd been a few choice morning moments back then. I remembered ascending from my dorm like some Jack London ape-man, the sun pulsating with a red-yellow glow like an angry testicle. The heavy glaze of frost was bitterly cold as it smeared my feet with kisses. The winds likewise chilled my dumb ass as they spun through my terricloth robe. Ahh, but it was so satisfying in the end, that elated feeling of jury-rigging the fucking computer lab door open and printing a paper; that was satisfaction. I had a vague hint of that satisfaction when I strolled into the building and caught Dr. Zivago going down. He didn't particularly care that I was there. Oddly enough, while I read through the tail-end of his huge 500k USD grant proposal (which was basically a summary of the next 23 experiments), I noticed his door was closed. My mind snapped back to when I saw "xxx" on his E: drive this past friday. I'm guessing what I saw was just a joke, but for a minute I really wondered. The next 5 hours can be neatly summarized thus: 8:00am-8:45am -- *Discussing an upcoming 2 page grant we're slobbering after and exactly how we'd use the 50k USD to pay for the next 3-4 experiments. 8:45am-1:30pm -- *Sat around with undergrads. *Edited a paper for one of the undergrad. assistants. Was neatly out-gunned as Dr. Zivago took over with his stunningly perfect (and madd) editing skillz. He was procrastinating on writing a paper of his own, but he was wasting time with style. *Casually argued with Dr. Zivago about the fuck all competence of Bush. We're both liberals, but we differ on how close we think war is, who on the Security Council will support Bush, etc. We both do agree, however, that the coccaine Bush abused in college left him no frontal lobe; the man's policy has become illogical and dangerous. *Sat around doing nothing of consequence for 4 hours, with the exception of phoning Mom for pick-up. The deed was done inside this James Bondesque broom-closet, which has a phone set back into the wall. So, 1:30 finally rolls around and Grettle isn't in sight. Without her, we can't start up the experiment. Some of the undergrads and I are starting to get jumpy at 1:40. Finally, one of them goes upstairs and drags Grettle away from her office hours so we could begin some injections. I wasn't familiar with the "rat burrito" method (my quote), but I tried it on the second rat we did right after Grettle injected her own. I largely didn't do so well and Grettle had to help me. I've done hundreds of injections, just not by rolling a rat up in a towel. On a perfectionist note, I also somewhat botched extracting the right amount into the syringe. I could how sworn it was a certain amount, but when she checked it I learned I was off. I must have been distracted by something. Maybe sometime early Wednesday I can apologize for my rusty skills. Fortunately/Unfortunately, though, I have tomorrow off so I can give another go at getting my license. Of all things it's been raining here in LA, though, which could be a problem. Speaking of problems, I really hope I don't have the same driving examiner as last time. I know all the little tricks she wants people to peform, but I'd like someone more...laid back...human, less bitchy. But I will get my license, finally, after 4 years of procrasting..replace the battery in Gran's old Ford Probe and stop having to get Mom to ferry me back and forth from Mt. University. She understands the predicament I'm in, but still you have to give the woman much credit and adulation. I think I'll go for a walk along the wet streets and enjoy my favorite streetlamps. |
