Today is the last biochem class before the final (which isn't cumulative, thank God), but since we didn't have class last week due to really inclement weather (that's the first time, excepting 9-11, that I have ever had a class cancelled at WU), there isn't a way to make up the lost class without adding time to tonight's lecture. So I will have freaking 4 and a half hours of biochem tonight, including the study session beforehand. And if he gives us more than one break during the hour-extended lecture, I'll eat my hat. Well, not really, since I like my hat and it's managed to stay with me, so far, with only a few moments of loss...
needless to say, that's a really long night. And of course, with the final only a week away, I've got to be serious about studying. Glycolysis, the citric acid cycle, sugars, dear Lord how am I going to remember it all? And then I see something in the text that I've been working with at work and I never knew anything else about it other than how to process it, and I feel ashamed.
Anyway, the title of the entry refers to the sad, wrenching feeling I had this morning as I laid aside my new copy of Cursor's Fury and did not put it in my bag to bring with me. I can't bring books to work when I'm supposed to be studying. I've learned that much, at least. But it's so pathetic that I'm so addicted to reading that I want that book, right now. It's so hard to study when that book (well, not specifically this book. Any good book will do) is sitting there, waiting to be read. I have to tell myself that I own the book, it will be there for me when I get back and done with this crazy class, but damn if I don't still want it.
I guess it's better to be addicted to books than, say, smoking. Good thing I don't do both. I'd be in the poorhouse. You know that Borders Rewards thing? It's embarrassing to think of the amount of Holiday Saving Rewards that I amassed this year, because that means I spent an atrocious amount of money at Borders. I probably pay the salary of one of their workers with all I spend there.
I need to find a job that lets me write fantasy and read other people's fantasy. I would be set.
Look Where We Are Now, Teddy Geiger
file under:
books
Academ's Fury, Jim Butcher (yes, again)
