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Thursday, November 11, 2004

It still amazes me that I live in an urban environment, yet there are wild rabbits running around my backyard when I come home.

Today, after only four hours' sleep, two exams, three assignments and an English class, I was fraying at the edges. All I wanted to do was sleep, but I had been scheduled to work a Smart Talk shift at WITF after class. As I walked to the college parking lot, I wished desperately for a cigarette.

I smoked socially for six years or so. By "socially," I mean that I would often go for weeks without smoking, but when I went out it was not uncommon for me to suck my way through a pack in one night. I liked to call my habit "binge smoking." When I met Matt, I quit. By "quit," I mean I have about a dozen cigarettes per year, usually when I am feeling stressed and always bummed from other people's packs.

As I approached my car, dreaming of a cancerous puff, I noticed something lying on the ground just underneath the driver's side door. It was an intact cigarette box with two cigarettes and a book of matches within.

Today, I bummed two cigarettes from God.



P.S. I think I did all right in my exams. The math test had a handy 10-point bonus question which I know I licked, so I'm hoping for at least 100%. The VB test was multiple choice, and experience has taught me never to count chickens when it comes to multiple choice exams.

See, now that I'm feeling more confident about my chances of getting a 4.0 GPA, all thoughts concerning the adequacy of a lesser grade have vanished. This supports my long-held view that the only people who try to convince themselves that marks aren't important to them are those who don't achieve good marks.
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