It's funny I find myself thinking about music too often although it has been nearly two months since I last touched the piano and almost five months since I had a piano lesson with Mrs. Marliave. I wonder how she is doing right now though. Hopefully, senility has taken over yet.

Once again today, the shadows of the night aka those vivid nightmares overtook my mind this morning. I remember waking up at 5 AM today from a sudden nightmare. The night before I dreamt that I got cancer because there was a microscopic hole in my eye. Myopia? Haha. What insane conclusions has my unconcious gone to? Hopefully not the bad horse lusting after the beloved (aka Plato's theory of the psyche). Or it could possibly be a Freudian symbol that is a representative transformation of the lust of the father--electra complex. Woohoo psychology.
Psych midterm was so-so. When I started writing the short answer, I realized that in just a few years or even a year, my right hand will be completely disabled. I will have to be left-handed just like my dad. Sigh...and it still hurts now. One impossible treatment: refrain from any exertion on the right hand...which mostly would include typing. AGH!

Those little things in life, those things that we never really notice in life, are the things that really matter.

Yesterday at the CS self-paced center, the tutor made a comment on my days-between program that my code was strange. "This is strange," he said. "Most people don't use this approach." Unfortunately in my surprise or most likely my usual social anxiety, I simply gave a quiet, "Oh." I should have said, "Well then obviously SIR [the tutor had a comical sense of seriousness--almost like my dad], I am not like most people. Furthermore, I am abnormal. I don't think like the masses because the masses disgust me. It's the unique thinking of each individual that matters." Of course, yet again, I digress. The tutor should have appreciated my alternative way of thinking. I wonder if alternative ways of thinking would help in the future. Duh...of course it would!

Litz (unlike Alston) gave Sherri and me a tour of the Hillside Residence. Still I liked the fact that the food was twenty-four hour rather than the two hour window the DC usually imposes on the poor poor residents.
It's funny though now...for the essay question on the psych midterm, I wrote about social anxiety. Suddenly I realize that I don't have the life-choking psuedo social anxiety anymore that I had last year. Now though, I rarely find myself in a social situation where I am unwilling to speak. Well with an exception...actually never mind. I still don't say anything significant in Ethnic Studies and English. Yet in a way, perhaps I am satisfied with my silent nature in those two classes. Then my mind wanders and transfers the energy of the present to more deserving thoughts (i.e. dinner).

Before the psych midterm, I gave a mournful lament, "Today was supposed to be the day!!! Today is the perfect day! Today!!! SNIFF!"
Xing gave me a look and asked, "Isn't it supposed to be tomorrow?"
"TODAY!!!" I lamented once more.
Abruptly, my laments were quieted by the silence of the shuffle of papers...which contained the psych midterm.