Day 1. And counting.
So. I'm done with the first day of second semester of my freshman year, and I already feel like I'm behind. Grar. I'm reading Lucretius, (as my roommate just so eloquently burst out in frustration, "Oh man! Lucretius!") a Roman philosopher-poet-scientist dude, who was surprisingly accurate as far as atomic physics go. But he's long winded, and repeats himself, and now and then lapses into, 'well, you just have to admit that I'm right, because you just have to.'
I have a seven hour block of classes tomorrow, plus another book in Lucretius' "On the Nature of Things" and who knows what else I'll have to do for Psych and French. Oy vey. Eh. I'll be fine. Maybe I'll even use some of my spare time to learn the fine art of trapeze. I'm not kidding. There's a circus school up on Hawthorne called Do Jump.
So. I'm going to bed. I want to be rested for my Tuesday.