So this is something wrong, seriously wrong with my brain. Or bran. Or both. Both are somewhat grey and mushy, so I guess they're more similar than the president would believe. Of ocourse, he's not really an expert on brains, not having one and all.
And I mean the president of Zanizbar, whoever it is, of course. But I digress.
So I'm not normal: I can live with that. I wouldn't want to be completely normal. Were I normal, I wouldn't be crazy, and if I weren't crazy, I'd be normal. See the problems there? Normal isn't fun. Abnormality is fun, and the thing I'll always remember from my dealings in the world of mathematics is that Math is really a form of Sadism, whether they know it or not.
But we'd best keep that info on the down low, yo.
In other news, I'm pretty much done with Winter (yes, frickin' WINTER semester) and have not but a speech test left, which will be pretty much like getting wet in Lake Ontario. And should I decide to try and up my Psych grade -- I can go 'bout that as well. The only thing that really, really matters is that I make the Dean's List. I'm not too worried, but there's always that damned Murphy and his "law." Granted, by that reasoning, my grades will be in one folder carried by one person and that person will walk down the staircase currently under construction, fall, get impaled on some sort of instrument and bleed all over the only copy of my grades, thereby making me repeat the semester at my own cost.
...that would suck, so I'm going to leave and find some wood to knock on....
