My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,
I awoke before the sun graced this stretch of land with its presence today (5 a.m. to be exact) and have been frantically cramming mechanisms and random bits of organic chemistry trivia into my weary brain just about ever since. Two, ohhh joy, two exams this week. Lab final one day, lecture exam the next.
In other news, the project is still a sinking ship. None of my committee responded to my phone calls and subsequent emails that I put through on Friday. Darling. Absolutely darling.
When I arrived at the apartment this morning, I opened the door expecting the usual nauseating aroma of Lord-only-knows-what that Party Boy left festering under five pounds of clothes, books, and assorted food wrappers... I expected to see rolling hills of clothing and trash in a post-apocalyptic landscape of neglect and carelessness...
...but what I saw (and smelled) brought great joy to my recently-troubled heart. Boxes. Boxes with Party Boy's stuff in them. The faint hint of various cleaning agents in the air very nearly got me excited in such a way that had only been accomplished by females in the past. Oh, boy, oh, boy. The time of his permanent departure is near! The place will be mine, all mine...all nice and clean...and QUIET for just about three glorious weeks!
Last night was a strange one, for it is usually the time I set aside to spend with my mom while I enjoy her fine home-cooking. However, she's moved into my brand-new step-father's place. Just a few things to tie up after the honeymoon and my ties with that old house will forever be cut. My ties to that part of the state, in which I spent almost all of the last 12 years, will also be almost completely severed. There are quite a number of big changes to wrap my head around at the moment, and I do say that I'm not completely processing any of them at the moment. The big three thoughts on my mind are as follows:
1. Must make an A on both my last lecture exam and final exam to make a B in the class.
2. Have to make the call to say my project won't meet its deadline next week.
3. Wondering if I should explore some other avenue instead of medicine.
Still struggling quite a bit with #3 there. I'll say one thing for certain; Boston Med is precisely the kind of kick in the pantaloons this young gentleman needs to stoke that old fire. Thursdays starting at 10 p.m. are the wildest, most focused times I've had since deciding to become a doctor.
Finally, my dear, Sunday morning brought a situation to me in which never before had I imagined I'd willfully engage... an online lonely hearts club. I've been reasoning that it's better to do something, anything, than sit round feeling miserable. My hope is that I'll come across someone with with intellectual depth the likes of which I've never known, who is tall in stature, and with creativity and genuine love for all beings oozing from her pores. So far, however, it's just been obese NASCAR and/or Twilight fans who couldn't spell to save their lives. ...par for the course?
Yes, I think so.
HA HA HA, laughs the Lord above, at poor ol' Josiah. Pooooor ol' Josiah who is purposefully being dramatic to avoid returning to the exciting world of aldol condensation reactions, and the like.
May the grace of He keep you always,
J.O. Morris
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