location: my room, little town, massachusetts

America is too flippin' big. I left the double walla at eleven. Just under twelve hours later, I am laying in my bed.  I played my uke for a few minutes, drank a glass of water, and brushed my teeth.  I also discovered that I didn't lose my watercolor set that travelled to Thailand with me and back. Which means, incidentally, that my roommate was right: I did leave it here at home.

I could stay up ridiculously late and wake up even later tomorrow, but there are things to do tomorrow. So I'll just hit the hay. On to laundry and biochem reading in the morning.

Good night.

wee hours of sunday

It is officially the wee hours of Sunday morning. It's two fifty-two, to be exact. I should be sleeping but I just got back from seeing the new Bond movie. It was intense; there were plenty of close, choppy shots and action sequences, a la Bourne Trilogy. My eyes still are a bit tired from all the furious blinking.

The movie was free. I certainly got my money's worth. Saturday was a long day. Today will be busy. Goodbye, weekend.

more often than not, sundays are terrrible, or, peace and glycolysis

More often than not, Sundays are terrible. I don't wake up until the afternoon. And despite fervently wishing that the to-do list would have disappeared with the passing weekend, I must complete the thirteen tasks of Hercules in a twelve hour stretch. Oh yeah, and I usually have almost no motivation.

This Sunday was different. I woke up at eight thirty. I ate breakfast and called home and then proceeded to tackle the list. I am pretty good at putting more things on a list than I can get done in a day; today was no exception. But I feel like I did pretty well. I am at peace. I am going to learn two more Glycolysis reactions and then I am going to bed.