I'm a slacker at heart. If you gave me a one week break here at college, I'd just walk around the house screaming James Brown and Ron Burgundy noises until I got too hungry to not have pants on and make/get some food. I'd wear the same wife beater every day before showering, and it would carry the stains of my culinary endeavors. This one isn't doing too well, and I've only worn it for one day. I can explain.
Today I was blessed with a snowstorm and one of my MCAT classes got cancelled, so I've been living it up. At the top near the neckline are chicken flavor ramen noodles, and ready-made spaghetti sauce that jumped out of the pot is at the bottom. Yes. But let me get to the point: in the course of doing nothing, I have realized some important things.
I have discovered that bouts of inactivity are a necessary part of accomplishing anything worthwhile in life. If you don't have time to be inactive and can only dream of being useless, you have to find little ways to resist respectability. As for myself, I refuse to shave. Yes, I know it significantly ups my chances of being deported, downs my chances of meeting women, and yes, according to my mom I look like one of those Hezbollahi guys.
Here's the deal. For all practical intents and purposes, shaving your face is necessary only when the excess hair makes you start to itch. If I shave too much, as in more than three times in one week, I'll get bumps and cuts and it'll itch all the same.
I've realized from watching TV that America worships cops. Every single show is about some kind of cop: blue collar blue suit, polished and seasoned detective, young and sexy forensics people. Some people hate real cops. I don't hate cops. Those dudes on the first Law and Order are awesome, and witty too.
Sometimes I wish I was one of those forensics dudes, because they always find those empowered, aggressive, beautiful women that are working their way up in a man's world. Plus, since New York cops apparently drive around the city all day, they are free to eat at any amazing New York deli, donut shop, diner, or pizza parlor that they so choose. That's amazing.
As for the MCAT? I've realized that freaking out is not the answer, and my mind responded in kind by flooding me with mood-soothing chemicals. I read that chapter on AC/DC circuits and now I don't feel so bad about physics, and I took a break from my job so I have Saturdays to catch up on whatever I usually would be studying like a madman for on Sunday.
To celebrate this, I had a party at my apartment, and it was bumping until a neighbor who has definitely partied with us before decided to bypass asking us to turn it down and just called the preceptor up. Can you guess what her name was?
Thanks, Fatima. We were having too much fun; who knows what could've happened.