duck-shaped pain

So I placed the boxes of macaroni and cheese in a bowl (only two or three of them fit in my usual candy bowl), just in case. But no one came by, so I was able to avoid any weird, uncomfortable moments caused by handing some five-year-old a box of cheese powder and goodness. I would have liked to see their faces, though.

It turns out that drinking beer was a good idea. But when is it not?

I was sort of tense and wound up after getting back the test I took last week in my Ancient Mediterranean class. I got the shocking, shocking of 89 in it, but I expected something much higher. However, no one had any sympathy for me, so I had to go home and pout alone.

The professor who teaches the class (in my opinion) tends to grade fairly high, which made my grade seem even more naked and sad. So I emailed my professor yesterday in the heat of anxiety and asked if I could meet with him today to discuss how I could improve my approach to the next test.

Between then and the meeting this morning, I drank beer and got a lot of sleep and woke up refreshed and utterly unconcerned about the grade in question. What the hell, I thought, in the shower. I still have an A in the class. Which made for a less productive (but more relaxed) meeting, and I was pleased. The one bad thing about planning to go to graduate school is that from now until graduation, I'm going to be even more vigilant about my GPA than usual.

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