You know the kids in the coming-of-age films? In those movies where they realize the bonds that friendship can have, or embark on a perspective-changing odyssey, or find love? Where they make the transition from child to adult with some life-changing circumstances wherein they have only their friends to help them through it? And there’s a montage set to indie music when they’re running and laughing in slow motion amid the urban cityscape, lights dancing and gleaming around them like jewels because they’re finally alive in a metaphorical sense for the first time and the director wishes to express this with cinematography?
That looks fun. But of course, it would be hard to do from where I am most nights. In the study rooms deep in the root of the pharmacy building. By choice, no less. At some point that everyone forgot to tell me about, I was supposed to start studying like some Chinese med student. At least, it’s applicable. A massive bolus administration of pharmacology, biochemical mechanisms and physiology. I can apply it to my long-time past-time of being a nerd.
Since that cavalcade of exams in November, there’s not much separating me from the grindstone. Furthermore, there wasn’t much separating me from my first college Cs either. With some equally dedicated compatriots so that we can all keep each other focused, RHPH162 became our prison.
I adapted to survive. I continue strapping my coffee to my shoulder, I also looked into M67 grenade pouches to strap fresh fruit to my belt for study binges. (Ended up not buying any because modern day apples are actually larger than grenades. Really. I had to use a utility pouch meant for SLRs to hold my fruit.) For the latter half of the semester, a peanut butter and apple sandwich was more-often-than-not concealed in a slim lunch bag strapped under my arm. I was ready for war.
I’ve only pulled a 3.29 this semester. No Cs. But…damn. It’s only the beginning.