(Richie Tenenbaum grows tired of his girlfriend being perpetually behind the camera lens.)
Yeah, grad school is tough, but it's doable. Most of the mental anguish is borne out of me feeling sorry for myself for all the work I have to do. I map out in my notebook a homework itinerary for each night, for each weekend day, and call it a success if I accomplish one-tenth of those things before nodding off in front of West Wing DVDs.
With a week and a half left of this quarter, things are piling up like mad and I set aside all of Friday, Saturday and Sunday to kick ass. By about 3 pm on Friday, I was still in my pajamas, waiting for the pot of coffee I drank to start working, tentatively flipping through a textbook.
So I called Nick and talked him into driving down to see me. I'd already killed the better part of the day, productivity-wise, right? Right?
We have a shared Google calendar, which is convenient, and admittedly sort of "married" of us, but I think Nick may start to regret it soon. It means I can say "Hey, come see me, the Internet says you don't have anything better to do."
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