The Finite

We had an awards dinner for the University Residences Housing and Food Services leaders. Formal dress. Shiny silverware and saucers.

I instinctively reached for chopsticks. Damn.

It’s just that the only fancy places I ever go to with tablecloths are Chinese restaurants during a wedding and with an Asian family, there’ve been quite a few weddings. So when I see tablecloths and more than two forks, I get scared. Not to mention the two years of dining court eating has given me a habit of fast efficient consumption. Which is to say I obtain maximum nutritive value in minimal time and minimal loss of life and limb.

It’s not pretty.

I think the point of the dinner was to give out awards to Dining associates. I was too focused on hiding my sugar packet wrappers in my napkin.

Okay, well, I sorta just up and disappeared again after Spring Break didn’t I? Well, that week sucked so I really don’t feel guilty about that. Exams aren’t that bad. It’s the preparation that sucks. Hicks seems so far away now. I mean, it’s only a mile, but the potential energy change adds an extra 25 kiloJoules of commute energy. And then there’s work, which I always seem to end up staying far longer than I planned to.

Right now, I’m writing a reflection for my experiential learning class, PHPR 368. So far, it is satisfactorily smart-ass in tone and contains such gems as:

“I’ve actually never been a customer in a pharmacy, something I attribute to hardy immunological genetics and horrible insurance.”

“We also learned about controlled substances and some of the basics of prescription processing. This helped me a great deal in memorizing the medication lists and also made it possible for me to completely own in recitation Jeopardy.”

“Using the arbitrary scale given, I’d say I went from a 2 to a 7.”

And let this mark the first night the libraries open 24-7 for the next two weeks. I have to fight for a study carrel and put up with loud white people. w00t. Let the finals beard begin…