Listen, my children, and you shall hear

Not about Paul Revere. Who cares. But about me! I am practically giddy today; I almost skipped through puddles in front of Old Main. Not really, but I could have; they were about three feet deep. Here's why: I feel so good. I think, perhaps that I felt like crap from the gallbladder for MONTHS, well before the crippling attack of late December. This must be how transplant recipients feel. Except they're still on ventilators worrying about organ rejection. We already rejected my gallbladder, so I'm way ahead of the game. Anyhoo.

Tuesday is my one long day on campus. I have the biodiversity lecture in the morning (I'm starting to figure out how this one turns out: biodiversity good, extinction bad). Then I run like the wind to my piano lesson (interesting tidbit: best lesson in one and a half years today; he said many interesting things, that actually made sense, that seemed to apply to me and not to some theoretical Russian prodigy circa 1958). After that, I stop by Prof K's office for a chat, but she almost always senses my impending arrival and manages to hide before I get there. Today I got close: the door was closed, but the lights were on. It's like she escaped with the tea kettle still on the burner. Then it's off to bio lab, in the same dreadful junior high lab classroom of last semester's fetal pig mutilation. Today it was all about counting hypothetical spiders in a hypothetical forest, then doing something in Excel—I'm not going to try to get too caught up in the particulars. I found another feisty young lass to be my lab partner, and succeeded in making her roll her eyes at my feigned naivete within about ten minutes. Really, the semester is off to quite a good start.