It's going to be slow going I think. Having absolutely no basis makes builing an experiment taxing, though rewarding when you consider that it's the first of its make. I just need to remember that this could be the ticket to Grad School. "See, Mr. Admissions man. I'm published."
"Why sure son, have a Ph. D. And a sack of cash. I'll be filling your apartment with monkies tihs afternoon."
Yeah, that's how it'll go.
Ordered GRE books. I hope they get here before the stated 21st. I think I'd prefer to get going on that soon, feel like less of a blobular being. And, of course, when they get here a new game gets here (Have I no ability to not buy entertainment from Amazon?).
Arcanum. Steampunk. How can you go wrong with a Half-Ogre mage that twofists flint lock? You can't, can you? See.
Grad School. I'm getting kind of frustrated with it all. Flutterby is really pushing for Seattle because more and more people are going to be there that she knows. But, do I really want to do Clinical Psych?
What do I want to do? Everything sounds cool enough that I could do it, but I can't do everything. Why is it the destiny of teenagers to decide their futures so prematurely? Doing so ends in dropped majors, wish-washy emotions and continuing questions of self-efficacy and future well-being. For all practical application I'm still sylvan (new, a neophyte) in all this "life" business. I still function under the awning of father's auspice. But that goes away the second I get a lamb skin sheet saying that I'm a bachelor of Arts; know so much, can do so little. But I still have to decide what to do after that point before that point is even within sight on the horizon?
At least I have it narrowed, I think, to what I really want. I won't get into what I want.
Hey magi! I'm getting 4 over par now. Getting closer to your score. So close I can taste it!