On Midterms

I know it's pointless to talk about this when finals are snaking their way around the corner, but you know what, whatever.

Midterms were okay for me. You tell me, professor - you graded half of mine. I didn't have a whole lot in the way of real work to do and managed to slide past in my usual 'look at me I can write a seven page paper in four hours' fashion, but the stress is starting to get to me right about now. Everything is either really funny or really aggravating. Often both. This mostly applies to Ben.

I'm worried about this semester. I put such pride and such emphasis on being a perfect student that it's starting to become part of my identity, and I know it's not an aspect I can maintain. My GPA will slip this year whether I like it or not. Freaking out about it is silly, but unavoidable.

Also: I am officially so tired that words, grammar and punctuation itself is starting to lose all meaning. Fair warning.

What really concerns me is whether my work performance is slipping in the face of the end of semester grind. I can't be sure, but I think I've been more brusque, less welcoming; more snippish, less patient. As the weeks wear on, I am becoming more and more tempted to tell that one jackoff that neeeeeds you to pleeeeeeeease do the citations for him precisely where he can stick his APA manual. I never do, obviously, but I think my frustration is becoming more evident. It's not the job, although if I never see another biomed paper, I will die happy. It's more the extraneous factors surrounding the job. And is anyone else really concerned about their capacity to write this bib paper?

I guess it's just a hodgepodge of personal drama, finals sneaking up and increasing sleep deprivation, but I will be immensely relieved when winter break finally descends upon us.

And I swear to god, Kyle, if you give me swine flu, I will never speak to you again.