Whinings

If there are any school administrators reading this, particularly from Johns Hopkins School of Public Health, here's a piece of advice: Give students a break after their finals. I'm tired. I'm not into school this quarter. I was all gung-ho last quarter, but I'm feeling burnt out already. This quarter is going to be hard. Maybe harder than last. For some reason I decided to take 5 full-credit courses this quarter. Why? To get my learn on, as the kids say. (And my money's worth as the Jews say. What?! I'm Jewish. I'm allowed to make those comments.) Unfortunately, I have to take more Biostats. Maybe that's the problem. Biostats takes away from my ability to spend time on classes I'm actually interested in. I am not looking forward to Biostats this quarter, especially since I heard "everybody bombed" the final from last quarter. Although, there will be a curve, I've learned. Hooray for curves!

I'm ready to get a job. I miss working. I never thought I'd say that, but having to do homework while watching the World Series is not as fun as not doing homework while watching the World Series. (Full disclosure: I didn't do homework last game. Instead I gorged myself on cheese steaks, wings, and beer with friends at MaGerks, a Philly bar in Baltimore. Yum. But not tonight. Not tonight).

Here's another thing that's making this quarter difficult: It's cold. The main problem with the cold (other than having to break out my sweaters, which I haven't worn in years and of which
I want more and newer) is that the cold makes walking to the market quite unpleasant. And thus, I'm hungry. When I lived in New York, which was colder, getting food was not as difficult because I was walking everywhere anyway and would inevitably pass many places to buy organic milk, overpriced juice and free-trade coffee. Plus, if I was feeling lazy or really really cold, I had a plethora of food delivery options. Here in Baltimore, at least in this neighborhood, the only delivery options are Indian, Indian/Nepali, and pizza. The Indian is good, but there's only so much Indian food a non-Indian girl can eat, at least this non-Indian girl. Alas, my refrigerator is empty. My favorite grocery store is many blocks away uphill; I could drive, but then parking would be a bitch. And the Baltimore Farmers' Market, of which I am so fond, is a whole five days away. Help! I'm stuck in a luxury apartment building with nothing to eat! All I can do is waste away while complaining about it on my blog. Woe is me!

At least the Phils are on tonight (although I will be celebrating with my communication theory books, rather than my friends. But boy, can those books drink). And speaking of the Phils, I can't believe Mike Schmidt reads my blog! Who would have thought? Here's a little anecdote about me and Mike Schmidt. He is one of the few people whose birthdays I remember (September 27, and no I didn't google that, but you can to check my facts). The reason I know this is that it's the same day as my former best friend's from kindergarten, who I haven't seen since I was 10. In kindergarten, I was jealous that she had the same birthday as Mike Schmidt, while I shared a birthday with stupid Michael Jackson. And so, every September 27, I think, "Happy Birthday, Sarah R. and Mike Schmidt." And that's my Mike Schmidt story.

The end.