I feel part of your pain (but definitely not to the same degree...damn!). I still have DiffE (2 weeks), Linear Alg., and Computation of Functional Brain Processes left...and I absolutely blow at all of them. Not to mention the fact that Rice is too poor/slow to hire a real Neuroscientist, so I'm left taking these at Baylor or (God forbid) MIT! How the fuck am I gonna get all the way over to Massachusetts to take like two NEURo classes?














Answer: Not going to.

A Day in the Lab



So, you'll now get to see how I spend my days at work.




8:35 A.M.--Alarm clock goes off. I punch it (knuckle bleeds) and roll back over.

9:35 A.M.--Wake up. Short jog and then to the weight room.

11:00 A.M.--Lunch. Essentially whatever I have laying around--I'm not a very big fan of overdone lunches. I just need nutrients.

1:30 P.M.--Arrive at work (I know; long lunch).

2:30 P.M.--Start data analysis spreadsheet.

2:35 P.M.--Decide spreadsheet bores me. Turn on Finding Nemo instead.

4:00 P.M.--Finding Nemo ends. I cry.

4:05 P.M.--Take a piss.

4:10 P.M.--Starting the next day's homework.

5:30 P.M.--Finish homework; watch Simpsons on CD.

6:00 P.M.--Unthaw chemical series for tonight's experiment.

7:00 P.M.--People arrive. They're nice. Talk pretty.

9:00 P.M.--Experiment over! Cleanup.

9:30 P.M.--Clean and ready to leave.

10:00 P.M.--Sleep. So tired. Itchy...hungry...


So, that's a day in the life! It's not glamorous, but it pays da' billz'. Later!

Ah...to once again sup at the table of milk, honey, and 6-month-old salami...I'm jealous.

(note: in the interest of maintaining open sharing of emotional states, and thereby avoiding a horrible fiasco such as the Mark v. Jason fight, I give you a word: sarcasm)

I only have to imagine that Quizno's is still far better than almost anything else that Glen Rose has to offer, although I certainly won't be trying to take your job anytime soon. Value that job security--once you hit regional manager you might finally find someone that could rival you in terms of intelligence. Although it's not altogether likely, poor bastards.

In the Kingdom of Josh, a new idea is rearing its ugly head: I think I want to be a mutual fund manager. Already I waste much of my day with news, finance, and world events, so it's only natural that I might have a job that would allow me to roll these into one happy-as-fuck little package. Enough investing to make me happy (not to mention vomit-inducingly wealthy), yet I wouldn't be day-trading, which almost always leads to...uh.......


suicide.


I don't like dying, so I think I'll find safer ways of making my dolla' billz.

Hunred' Dolla' Billz, y'all.

Well, off to sleep/eat/run/lift weights/do homework/love the universe and its ever-evolving Lifestream, Gaea.

Once again, congrats Jason!

OVAH and OUT.

Sooooo...how was Garfield? Not to sound like an angry, cat-bashing biach (much like the scary motherfucker in Suicide Circle), but it really looked like a horrible movie, man. Speaking of horrible things, why have you never visited me in my fucking room??? It's lonely--I need as many visitors as freakin' possible! Later, just wanted to make a brief post.

Damn. That was one hot party. Jason, you would have heartily approved!

So, I'm basically taking a break from doing diffE homework (easy!) to make this post and let everyone know how amazing that party was. Okay, let's set the scene first: young, up-and-coming chemical engineer with really easy NASA job gets house in nice complex near Galveston. Has too much money, decides that a house party with 5 gallons of tequilla is certainly a beautiful way to rid himself of said money.

I agree.

Night started out well with a few drinks--old people still remained (he invited the neighbors as an insurance policy)--but soon things turned crazy, thanks in large part to our resident Danceophile, Jesse Cortez.

As I was slowly working my way into an internship at NASA next Summer, I noticed the lights randomly flickering. They flickered a few more times, and then they went off. For good.

The music was turned up, and the party began. Needless to say, I remember little of what followed, save for some sort of strange game where a girl rolled citrus fruit up and down my pantlegs, taking great pains to slowly and lingeringly work it through the delicate...*ahem*...'checkpoint' that existed in the middle of this wonderful pant-race.

Summary: Possible Job + Drinks + Citrus Fruits + Love = Happy Josh

I bid you good day, everyone!