Woke up at 8:30am. Nuked an ultra lean hot pocket, made soysages (like sausages, but not). I had those every day for breakfast from I can't remember to 11th grade; couldn't stand the things after awhile. Maybe I was trying to set the day tone.

So I Ate. Showered. Dressed. Looked up bus stuff online rather than engage in my complicated plan of driving for my morning class, driving back, then figuring out bus stuff for afternoon class.

The cellular and molecular neuro course was painful. I understand the material, but the lecturer speaks too quickly in an english accent. And I find his rattling off the Nernst and GHK equations as if we knew them by heart to be deafening in fear. Fortunately, I know Ramia from the class I took on brain damage and inflammation from Raghu. Also fortunate is that, according to the english prof, there won't be much math. Mostly molecular stuff, some cell stuff. Best news of all is that we don't have 90 minute discussions every week on thursdays. They decided to incorporate it into the course on MWF. Thank Christ and Loki.

Hard bio I can take. Calculating resting membrane potential with a constant gas value at room temperature for influxing Cl- and effluxing Na+ on an exam is not my idea of a good time. Coloumbs are not cool in that case.

Went to the lab. Talked to Post-Doc/Birdie. I figured we should have the 'who's on the paper anyway?' discussion. She's just going to be giving stats advice for now. I learned I may be able to score a second short communication publication (3-5 pages) if I have enough left over bits that aren't directly related to using the '97 survey to see if results replicate the '91 survey. I'd go into more exposition, but it's late.

Trudged over to the clinical sciences building at the Shangrila medical complex. So new. So expensive. So damn purty. And choked with enough construction to annoy commuters one and all. I couldn't find the usual entrance, so I ducked through the main library--a gorgeous 5 story glass windowed, open air affair of technology and wood and Phillip Glass otherwordliness. There I discovered a tunnel that meandered through to where I thought the building was. I spilled a bit of my protein drink, which was vexing until I found a fountain to clean me and the bottle.

The afternoon course--which I only have on wednesdays--was quite affable. It's on neuroimaging theory, analysis, and topics of interest. The prof was a young 30-something Irish-American fellow with a soft-spoken voice, the TA a likewise soft-spoken guy and of the techie sort. The general introduction went by quickly, maybe a bit too quickly, but considering I was probably the only person who did the initial readings I already knew most of it.

I also found out I'm the only psych grad student in the course; I thought for sure I'd have to see Cold War, but apparently Ms. 'I'm feeling encroached upon' can't be bothered to study what she does. (No, I don't hate her--but it's the closest I've ever come). Even more fascinating is that half the people are undergrads. I will kick their asses at discussion. Easiest 30% of a grade I could think of. Another 30% is a presentation, and again--no worries there. The weekly question assignments based on the primary literature is new, and I don't know what to make of it yet. But the lack of tests and a paper make me feel good.

Still, at the end of the day, when I spent a bit on this or that bus to get back to the lab, thought about just staying on the bus to go home, then deciding to go to the lab because I may have left my office door open...still, I felt tired. And after speaking to my advisor, getting into a conversation about the neuroimaging prof because he's collaborating with my prof, talking about that project, suggesting again what I want to do for dissertation work, and him basically not commenting and saying I could go this way, that way, but that I should narrow my focus this year...well it made me feel bad.

Spent the rest of the day online doing e-mail, hanging out with Brian watching TV, or doing a minimal amount of reading. So little reading I feel guilty, but I can do more tomorrow.

I didn't go to the Inferno out of sheer shittyfeelingness, so I just ran 2 miles. Almost made it without having to stop for a break. 80% of the reason I do it is for me, but a small part wonders if attracting some vapid but stable chick might be the answer to that age-old question. God knows I could use a change on that count.

Speaking of which, haven't e-mailed Erin since friday. I figure I'm ambivalent about it and I'd prefer to wait. After the last time I'm not really sure it's worthwhile. I get a response, but in person I keep expecting, I don't know, something beyond. Maybe she's just not interested or it's not a priority. Like I said, I don't know.

I should sleep. I did this for the purpose of relaxation. That and to vent.

It's kinda gonna suck without Katie B. around. As it stands it looks like the occasional date/whatever you want to call it with Erin is about it, aside from the usual parties/excursions.

Oh.

Speaking of which.

The reception to welcome the new 1st years is this week. I could use the free booze and meat and veggie plates.

Yeah. I feel shitty right now. Hopefully I'll get out of it with sleep. I've been using medication the last 3 days to get about 1/2 to 3/4 what I usually get. That might be it.

Sometimes I wish I were still driving through Colorado and never had to stop, past the valley towns and gas stations, cranking away at a bare 60 as my car chugged along. Hopeful, slightly thoughtful. Just keeping on driving, just living in the present--not one foot in the few years ago and the other in a decade from now.

I'm just not stopping it tonight. Oh. Wait.

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