Oh so I was offered a position in a bio research lab run by one of the professors here, which is a huge opportunity ^.^ But after spending 10+ hours in lab this week, I still feel utterly incompetent and in the way and bleh. I hate being bad at things, especially when doing so causes inconvenience for other people around me.
Oh well, as long as I don’t perish in a lab-related accident any time soon, sometime I’ll be the one showing a lab “duckling” around :]
So, I am moving back to school in less than 24 hours.
I feel like the people in beginning part of ever allergy medicine commercial where the scene is like all blury and only black and white, and they keep sighing deeply and putting their faces in their hands and looking down.
This is just me remembering the time boyfriend and I had a ringtone dance party in the middle of the woods last week. Good times, good times :]
Boyfriend and I said the rosary together and went to the Latin Mass today :]
.
That awkward moment when your birthday is December 21, and you get continuously accused of being the antichrist.
I got a 92 on my Chem final exam and nothing hurts
Since November is over, does that mean we have vember now?
This is so stupid. Curse this heart of mine.
I feel like my relationship with Mike is hurting so many people.
So, I received a letter from one of my good friends who is on Parris Island right now training to be a Marine. We graduated together, having known each other since we were in 4th grade.
He tells me it’s hell down there; not so much the physical work, but that the drill instructors really try to mess with his head. All of that, plus he has not been allowed to talk to/ or see his family or friends at all since August. Until December, letters are his only means of keeping in touch.
He told me that when he’s having a rough time, he’ll think of me encouraging him to “Be a man!” (a la Mulan—an inside joke) and that helps him carry on.
Moreover, he told me that every morning when he wakes up at 4am, there are still stars out, and sometimes he’ll see shooting stars. He told me that those stars make him think of me.
He trailed off there, but regardless, when I read his letter (which contained more), I sunk to the floor in my school’s post office and started crying.
I don’t even know what to do with myself.
(But if anyone out there read this and could pray for that boy’s safety, I would be eternally grateful.)
