11/24/06

Thoughts \ Developed Thoughts \ Rants \ Raves \ Writing

12/16/2004 21:53 -0500 GMT

Like Sugar

I just finished a semester of medical school.

YES!!!

My immediate second thought is of my classmates, who also have suffered this great accomplishment. I have newfound and growing respect for them, and for those who have gone through this education and training before. To put it minimally, med school is hard, man.

So tomorrow it's hoops at 10, and then start in on the honeydew list, which has reached epic lengths in the last few months.

If ever there was proof of the universe tending toward entropy, it's right here in the dining room, where I am surrounded by papers, strewn in ordered chaos. Anatomy is stacked in the corner, next to the underwatered plant. Genetics is sitting on the table, the fingerprints still fresh on its shiny red cover. The Biochemistry text is there, on the floor, covering a board review series book, and another titled "Clinical Biochemistry made ridiculously simple." After taking the mock board on Wednesday, I'm convinced the author was lying. A dictionary and a synonym finder are there, and Ethics sits next to them.

Papers. Papers are everywhere. I walk around them to sit where I sit now, as if I were avoiding land mines. A second-hand, navy blue sweater is flopped over a chair. A coat lies over the back of another. Under the coat is a shirt and tie, if I remember correctly. The rolling, carry-on suitcase is over there in the corner, next to board review series CDs. Note cards are stacked on the corner table, with the plant. The stack is about two inches high. That was for one of the biochem exams. I've got a checkbook, some floss, batteries, my ID, keys, wallet, pens, colored pencils, a hand towel, a coaster, a mini-cassette recorder, a three-hole punch, post-it notes, the latest U2 CD, more study guide CDs, toilet paper, a bag, a magnifying glass to view the metabolic map, a lamp for the same purpose, and a small box of chocolates. These occupy the table, along with this laptop of course.

So tomorrow I have no obligations. None. Zero. How sweet is that? Like sugar, baby!