13 February 2006

Low point


At some point on Saturday night, someone asked me where I was in my graduate studies. I told them:

If grad school were the digestive system, I would be in the
duodenum.


What’s worse is that I don’t remember who received this tidbit, or,
for that matter, whether it was Carlos’s or Zak’s party where I met
them. I suspect the former, but can’t be certain. This isn’t due to
alcohol, by the way — I think it’s some sort of memory loss. Maybe
from ingesting too much Teflon from nonstick cooking pans. (I used to
use a metal spatula.)



What’s worse still is that “the duodenum” may be a bit optimistic.



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