I always make the mistake of planning for the future. It doesn't take much to realize that in most cases, this is a futile enterprise. I had hoped that semester would be an easy one after crushing myself under the weight of 18 hours last semester. Unfortunately, I've gotten a burden that makes school seem simple.
Anyone who knows me is familiar with my penchant for poor metaphors. I will take the liberty of using another one. Whenever I sit on grass, I have the habit of plucking blades of it and trying to split them down the middle as precisely as I can. Even though I do this, it's often hard to tell how precise my judgment is. I often misjudge. Am I being indirect? I hope so.
o me miserum! cogno sed nescio. anima mea infirma est.
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